"Why is the rope around my body so much tougher than the one that bound my hands?"
Alistar was glaring at Tramon with all the exasperation he could muster. It was midmorning of the next day, and not only were his arms lacking all sense of sensation, but he was covered in sweat and also had to pee so badly that at this point the rope was actually helping him to hold it in.
"Still here, huh?" Tramon had woken up a short while ago and was now sitting on the wooden chair from the day before, munching on an apple that seemed crunchier and juicier than all others in the world. Hearing Alistar's grumbling stomach, he continued, "It's not my fault that you can't do such a simple thing. I honestly thought you'd be gone after a few hours." Yawning loudly, the sword master stretched out his arms and leaned back in his chair.
