Shine

Shine sat in a comfortable chair in front of the fire. Beside him on the floor was a pile of weapons he had found in the small room: a short sword pitted with rust, three mismatched daggers, and a small crossbow. He watched through the small window as the darkness turned to the gray haze of early morning. Stirring lightly, the sleeping man blinked and stared sleepily at the ceiling. “Good morning.” Thaddeus bolted upright; but the leather thong Shine had tied to the headboard and looped around the thief’s head constricted around his neck, cutting off his air and jerking him back to the bed. Shine was atop him, dagger point pressed against his chin. “If you try to call out, I will kill you. If you try to resist me, I will kill you. If you do anything I don't tell you, I will kill you. Understand?”