She was still wearing her green armour, an elven belt-blade was lying on her side. Her golden hair was swirling under the moonlight, showing one of her pointy ear. Marks of red blood were scattered on her armour and her hand. She was a combination of beauty and danger. She sat on the burnt field of grass. Her hands held a man, human race. His head was on her lap. Her face contorted with pain and anger. The man was looking into her eyes and smiling.
"It’s alright," he said. "It’s not about us. My dead will unite both races. You win." he whispered with his last breath.
She held the man tightly. The pain in her hearth was excruciating.
No. I did not win. I lost everything. I have just killed the love of my life. She dropped tears.
This post was published as response to Daily Prompt challenge. The theme was I’d Like to Thank My Cats.