He'd never walk on this planet that was not quite his, as a warrior. He threw back his head and shouted his agony. His roar echoed over the mountain. Repeated again and again, taunting him with his own agony. When he did what he had to do to save her, would he ever receive his sword from the leader of all Zyrgins? He roared harder. Would he be able to protect her?
When at last the rage subsided, he turned to Zorlof. "Is she hurt?"
Zorlof eyed his sword and stepped back from him. "Zanr had to hold her." He hesitated before he added, "Firmly."
Larz swore viciously in Zyrgin. She would've fought Zanr. The crazy human didn't lack courage. Or maybe she lacked sense. He was inclined to go with the latter.
Zorlof took another step back. "She's very slippery. He had no choice."
Larz continued swearing.
"Are you sure you want that one? We can easily go get you another one." Zorlof produced his handheld and scrolled. "What about her?"