She spoke, her voice soft and calming. An apology left her lips, and he had to stop himself from wincing. All he had experienced since returning is others' pity and sympathy. It was beginning to grate at him, and as much as he knew Calla didn't mean it, it still spurred a small flare of anger.
No reflection of this emotion flickered across his face, however. He was steady; careful to paint a mask of casual indifference or quiet amusement. Calla mentioned wanting to be able to help, or be able to do, and he simply shook his head. Nothing could fix what was now broken.
"Do you feel pain?"
Wasn't that obvious? Sethos blinked, startled at his own thought. The voice that spoke it wasn't.. exactly his, either. Not the one he usually heard at least when he thought to himself. Panic threatened to clutch at his heart, but he exercised his training to shove the unwanted thoughts away, at least for now, and instead force a smile to his lips as he nodded.
"Yes, more often than I'd care to admit," he replied, his tone a tad too strained. The man would pay no mind if she showed any suspicion though, instead listening intently in an attempt to forget what he had just experienced.
And Calla obliged, even if she didn't know what he was seeking. He focused on her words, nodding here and there to show he was listening. He could just imagine how quickly she would have ran through her supply of herbs and ingredients, of how many injured wolves were tossed her way to bend back together. He wondered if she came across anyone he knew.
"I am just glad the outcome was positive on our side of things."
Another forced smile was upon her lips, a stiff nod accompanying it. Because yes, of course he was also glad for this positive outcome; that the Imperial Army had decimated their enemy and sent them running back to the Highlands. He should feel victorious, like the hero that Calla saw in him.
And yet he felt empty, as if his heart had left his ribcage that was torn open back on the battlefield. He figured some would call this PTSD. All he could think about was how he had
murdered a woman out there, only in an effort to save his own life. Was she any different? Did she have a family, like he did? Did she know what or who she was fighting for?
Sethos swallowed, blinking again to erase the distant, foggy look in his eyes before she noticed. Her voice pulled him back to reality with the offer of physical therapy.
"That would be nice, Calla. I don't know if I'm in a state yet to start, but perhaps soon. Maybe give me a couple more weeks, and come by the Tiamat Manse when you get a chance." another smile, this one more genuine as he paused.
"Are there any supplies you are still short on? Wherever you get them from, tell them to bill me. I'll cover it - it's the least I can do in repayment of you patching me up last time. It helped me... be as strong as I could have been for the following battle."
The following battle, where he had dealt a fatal blow to a woman that ended in her death. The weight of her body falling limp against him, the smell of her blood as it gushed from her body in unholy amounts, the way her eyes immediately glazed over. They were all memories still so very fresh; so vivid that he had a hard time remembering where he was at night.