Pain. All what surrounded him, was pain. Pain so strong, so intense he felt it with all his senses - as stabbing agony in his veins, bones and muscles, as metallic, bloody taste in his mouth, as dull ringing in his pointed ears and as outbursts of bright shades of red and orange under his closed eyelids.
Ciaran aep Easnillien groaned in pain, opening his hazel, almond-shaped eyes for a brief moment. Just to see the so very familiar inside of the old, human Prison barge.
The humans, d'hoine, the disgusting, foul, stinky, hairy monkeys they were, tried their best to force any informations out of him. After all, as he thought to himself, he was the right hand of Iorveth, the very commander of the Scoia'tael - or the Squirrels as humans would call them - and the known hater and terrorist of the human kind.
It was obvious they wanted information. But they got none. No matter how hard they tried and tried and tried. They broke bones, covered his smooth, pale, hairless skin with