If the trajectory is already wrong

Catrina did not even look at Aldric.

The moment she arrived, she yanked the slender foil from the ground and dropped to one knee beside Lathel.

"Lathel."

Her voice trembled almost imperceptibly.

Lathel lifted his head. He barely managed to recognize the familiar mask before the last of his strength disappeared.

His body collapsed.

Catrina immediately slipped one hand behind his head, wrapped the other around his back, and pulled him into her arms.

"Lathel!"

She lowered her head and checked his breathing and pulse.

Still there.

Catrina had only just begun to relax when her eyes moved over the wounds covering him.

His lip was split.

There were clear signs of impact around his abdomen and ribs.

Dust and blood stained his clothes.

Then she looked at Lathel's hands.

Not all of the blood on them belonged to him.