[ Perhaps for the other man. For Reinhardt, he has but one regret. His regret that he couldn't have done more to help more people. He can only hope that he's worthy of the Halls of the Brave. That his fellow Crusaders are waiting for him.
He can die. He can, knowing that his last act was to shield one last person. He can die. It's enough. It's finally enough. His fight is finally over. His last breath comes with such pain, but he doesn't falter.
Everying is black and he can only hope Balderich and the others would recognize him. It had taken him a long time to join them. Then it's over and his single eye opens again. The man is still behind him. He still stands, his body turned, his back to where the storm had been. He'd used his body like this once before, to shield men. It had been his last conscious effort to save one last person.
His knees shake from how he's braced himself and he looks down at the man that he had tried so hard to protect. His throat feels dry and he can feel sorrow, tears for those souls that had perished, unable to be saved by the storm.
For a moment, there is silence as he tries to work though those tears. They fall anyway and he reaches his hand down towards the kneeling man. He can at least help him get to his feet. He doesn't know if one of those prayers had indeed been for him, but he still murmurs, breaking the silence with that heavy Germanic accent of his. ] Thank you. For praying.
welcome back
He can die. He can, knowing that his last act was to shield one last person. He can die. It's enough. It's finally enough. His fight is finally over. His last breath comes with such pain, but he doesn't falter.
Everying is black and he can only hope Balderich and the others would recognize him. It had taken him a long time to join them. Then it's over and his single eye opens again. The man is still behind him. He still stands, his body turned, his back to where the storm had been. He'd used his body like this once before, to shield men. It had been his last conscious effort to save one last person.
His knees shake from how he's braced himself and he looks down at the man that he had tried so hard to protect. His throat feels dry and he can feel sorrow, tears for those souls that had perished, unable to be saved by the storm.
For a moment, there is silence as he tries to work though those tears. They fall anyway and he reaches his hand down towards the kneeling man. He can at least help him get to his feet. He doesn't know if one of those prayers had indeed been for him, but he still murmurs, breaking the silence with that heavy Germanic accent of his. ] Thank you. For praying.