[Ravus, for his part, reaches the end of the battle feeling a sense of relief. His anger has been vented, replaced by exhaustion. He can tell Gladiolus is reaching his limit as well. At that last sluggish parry, Ravus could have stayed his blade, but he slices up instead, leaving a red stripe on Gladio's shoulder, a painful but superficial wound.]
Yield. [Ravus commands. He's not sure if Gladiolus will interpret it as a demand or as permission to give up the fight completely. It matters not to him.
Ravus sheathes his blade- Gladio in this state is no threat- and turns.]
no subject
Yield. [Ravus commands. He's not sure if Gladiolus will interpret it as a demand or as permission to give up the fight completely. It matters not to him.
Ravus sheathes his blade- Gladio in this state is no threat- and turns.]
Leave your things and follow.