His vision blurred briefly, a fleeting sense of vertigo and exhaustion washing over him, and it took a moment's concentration to clear his senses, for his eyes to regain their focus.  His voice was a shade weaker, not from the verge of death but simple exhaustion as his body struggled to recover from his wound,<span style="font-weight: bold">"Would I have any reason to kill her?  I've never met her, and perhaps she has nothing to do with this crisis.  There are parties of would-be heroes combing the world, seeking the source of poweful magics killing the world.  Ah, it is true I was charged to slay her on sight, but...that is not my way."</span><br/><br/>His expression grew a touch sorrowful at the topic of his mount, and he shook his head gravely,<span style="font-weight: bold">"No, good Lady, let him rest.  He was a dutiful mount, and deserves to lay his head.  It was a clean death, quick."</span>She was light, amazingly so, or perhaps his senses had dulled enough that he could hardly notice her weight on his lap.  Likely.  The sudden outburst took him by surprise, and he peered up at her curiously.<br/><br/>Then he chuckled quietly, ending it with a brief wince and a silent reminder to himself that laughing hurts.  He offered a comforting smile,<span style="font-weight: bold">"I am sorry for that.  I promise, a day or two and I will depart, if my presence causes you so much distress."</span>And he would, even knowing he would not be fully recovered; he would be able to walk, at best, and would do his best to continue with his mission.