Instinctive
It was instinctive, for Percival, to help anyone weaker than him.
Years ago, Cenred's raiders had burned the village he lived in and killed his family and friends and the girl that he had married two months before. She loved honeysuckle and blackberries and had ten thousand bright smiles. He remembered every last one.
But Percival hadn't been able to save them. He was knocked out and left for dead.
Percival quietly watches the smile of the child he's brought to safety. He's sworn that he'll never fail anyone again.
He pictures someone else in the room. Smiling at him.
