Chirrut snarls, pushed beyond his vain attempt to maintain some facade of calm. He can hear Master Sheotar's steady tread coming into the hall. He doesn't really recognize it as her, just as the tread of one who can match him in this chaos. He will be flanked soon.
He attacks harder, a whirling dervish of mad anger. He both fights and welcomes the oblivion of exhaustion, of being beaten down.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-06-19 05:41 am (UTC)He attacks harder, a whirling dervish of mad anger. He both fights and welcomes the oblivion of exhaustion, of being beaten down.