He got fucking shot. Fucking shot in his damn arm as he let out a growl of pain. Snapping the bolt, he jerked it out, ignoring the hot, angry blood gushing down his arm and crossed the short distance to get at the man.
It was hard to tell what was happening, but Sunniva would be able to hear it. Krah's fists to another, the cries of the other man as the attack was unrelenting, and then the sickening crack as his face eventually caved in; and if he weren't dead enough yet, Krah slammed the half broken bolt into the man's eye socked, twisted it and kicked him to the ground.
He had taken his crossbow, restocked it, and aimed it at his body, shooting him over and over again until the bolts were gone. Then, still feeling the rage consuming him, he lifted up his heavy boots and smashed them down ontop of the man's head, until the sickening crunch was heard and his brains oozed out of his face.
He was panting heavily, and began to see starry spots and feel hot all over.
"Fucker." He tossed the crossbow at his smashed body, and turned, almost falling over, before righting himself just enough to begin back on his way; Blood now staining his entire arm, and now it was cracked on his fists, which mingled with the splattered blood of the dead that now speckled him, all over, from hair to boots.
