Six

[akhilles-heel.insanejournal.com]

[Achilles has remained quiet since the maenad raid, pouting more or less to cope in his own way. Blood is something that stains his hands from one life to the next, it is not unknown to him. Killing a maenad however only awakened an ancient anger he had not seen in centuries. A cruel and ruthless anger that cared not for the lives he took. The Achilles now while stern and strong, held some compassion for his fellow man. This, this ordeal was senseless, there was no reason to it, and in seeing Erato abused in such ways tore at him inside. It opened up a fresher wound than he thought was even visible. He had not expected the little Muse to sit so easily on feelings he had not experienced in this time. Now that was all too apparent, and Achilles had to hold himself back from her or he too would succumb to that anger again. She had those willing to take care of her in the way he could not right now.]

Something has awakened that is cold and familiar.

Erato, forgive an old warrior for his silent tongue and unwilling heart. I cannot accept this right now.