[Alhaitham is only an ordinary human. He is made of flesh and sinew and bone, like anyone else. A solid core of wood collides with his skull. The motion jerks his head down. His body follows to its knees, the way of it a prelude before he crumples to the ground. A trickle of red carries itself down the grey strands of his hair, painting them with stark color.
Alhaitham lays motionless, except the steady rise of his breathing.]
no subject
Alhaitham lays motionless, except the steady rise of his breathing.]