A deep wound here could kill, or at best, leave them bleeding out and facing terrible complications. Her hands trembled as she urged them on, every word threaded with fear and fierce, desperate care.
She felt awful, knowing that she was one of the reasons these young warriors were still fighting, bleeding, and struggling to hold the line. If it weren't for her and the other old folks, they could've evaded the goblins' attacks instead of taking the blows meant for others.
But these young warriors had been trained since childhood to protect their pack above all else. That was the creed etched into their hearts, to defend, to endure, even to sacrifice their own lives if it meant keeping their people safe.
So, although they understood the elderly woman's heartbreak, none of them could turn away. Abandoning the old and the young to be slaughtered was something no true warrior could ever do.
