[There was something horribly familiar in this- a younger woman, with paler hair and eyes. She hadn't lasted much longer in the Crows. The remorseful never do. As he did then, he did now. Steps in close and lifts the hand he held to rest it against his chest, his own steady heartbeat. Breathed deep and even and kept his eyes on her face.]

Breathe- and thing of something else. Focus on what brings you joy. Ignore the pain, ignore the blood. That is over, that does not matter anymore. Think only of something bright and peaceful. The forest in the early morning- the sound of a river. Laughter of someone that you love.

Focus on that to the exclusion of all else. And breathe.