A Losing Battle [Nine]

[Fel]

What had he been thinking? But Ealar knew the answer. He hadn't been thinking. He'd heard the man saying terrible things about the Holdless, and had snapped. He hadn't seen the rider's knots, he'd only been seeing red. Now he wrestled only with his own thoughts, still shaky with adrenaline.

He prodded gingerly at what was sure to be a spectacular bruise around one eye, if it wasn't already. Ealar wasn't a fighter. He was small, scrawny, and inexperienced; his father had taught him to avoid fights, not to go starting them. And now... what if someone used this as an excuse to kick him out? To kick his entire family out? He hadn't meant to do anything wrong, but now he'd probably made things worse.

He all but slunk back into his quarters, trying to avoid unnecessary attention—what if someone was already looking for him to send him packing? He should have known Haron would be there. His brother had a habit of being there when Ealar wanted to get away with having done something wrong. Of course, he had a habit of being there when he was needed too. Ealar wasn't sure which of the two it was just then.

"Oh. Hey," Ealar said, letting his hair fall over his eyes. He could play it cool. He could avoid somehow turning this into a bigger deal than it already was.