Soran did his share of plundering, but he started to feel just a bit sick by the time Guthwine went into the house. The sheer wanton destruction practiced by the recruits was overwhelming.
I thought we were just after supplies, he thought dazedly as one of the recruits smashed a barrel of corn that was too big to easily carry away, laughing while the hard-earned kernels spilt into the mud and were trampled into uselessness.
"Here you, stop that!" Soran began to shout. The ruffian only laughed harder and went on to another barrel. The old ex-farmer stood aghast for a moment, silently raving against the reckless waste. Had the fool any idea how much work it was to produce that much grain?
Another barrel was struck, spilling its precious contents. Soran winced. Apparently he hadn't.
Soran hefted a couple hams to his shoulders and began to run back to the woods, away from the reminders of what he had become. It didn't work out quite the way he'd intended.
Befor his eyes had quite adjusted to the darkness, he heard a yell, the tinkle of breaking glass, and the wet crash of something heavy hitting the muddy ground. Then his left boot caught on whatever it was, he dropped the hams to try to catch his balance and felt himself fly through the air. His eyes finally adjusted in time to see the large rock towards which he was hurtling.
Oh, damn!
[ November 23, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]
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