<div class="floatleft">(http://www.dfwd20.com/photopost/data/522/medium/Human_Fighter1.jpg)</div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: edwardian;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 2.65em;">Alfreic Slate, Soldier</span></span><br/><em>W/ Ms. Ashley; HP 18 (Current 10)</em><br/></strong><hr/><br/>The gift imparted was received well, and now, Alfreic swirled the taste of Ms. Ashley and himself across his palate.  Before he could respond, though, Ashley had risen, broken his hold and darted from him, laughing.  Was she mad?, Alfreic wondered as he slowly rose to his feet.  His... urge had made him forget that he was wounded, and he now seemed surprise when he had trouble rising to his full height.  He pawed at his crimsoned hip, and then looked down at the blood on his hand.  Alfreic dropped his hand at his side, seeming to think the damage insignificant.<br/><br/>Four days, he thought.  It would take four days to heal on its own.<br/><br/>Alfreic thought about giving chase to Ashley, but...<br/><br/>Suddenly, Alfreic remembered.<br/><br/>"Ashley!  Wait!  There are Falcovnian soldiers around!"