[Victarion follows behind Prompto, eliminating any chance that there might be any further escape. His murderous intent is almost palpable.]
You, woman. The poisoned air has tainted my niece and will be the death of her. I would know why.
[His axe is held in front of him, his hands holding onto it so tight that it looks like they might well squeeze through the handle. Victarion was filled with rage, having already accepted the futility of any chance at saving those who were infected. When you seen sickness strike like the bomb had, you learned to anticipate death.]
no subject
You, woman. The poisoned air has tainted my niece and will be the death of her. I would know why.
[His axe is held in front of him, his hands holding onto it so tight that it looks like they might well squeeze through the handle. Victarion was filled with rage, having already accepted the futility of any chance at saving those who were infected. When you seen sickness strike like the bomb had, you learned to anticipate death.]