I’m ready when we take the last straps off. So, when the creature lunges at me, I’m prepared. What I’m not prepared for is for it to beg for death.
“Please, kill me,” it says.
“What is your name?” the elf asks, her voice soft, gentle, coaxing. I still don’t know her name and I don’t like it.
It turns its strange head to look at her. “Graith. My name is Graith, or it was.”
“Your name and who you are haven’t changed Graith,” she says.
“Look at me,” he replies, spreading his wings and lifting his legs. “Look what they did to me,” he snarls.
“I know. I’m sorry that this has been done to you.”
He looks down. “You didn’t do it, you have nothing to be sorry for, but you can put me out of my misery.” His voice whistles every time he uses a word that has an ‘s’ in it. “I can’t live like this
