Damon the Prideful’s eyelids twitched. The sound that resembled a howl of a wounded animal sent shivers down the very core of his being. It was quite a funny concept that his core wavered upon such anguished sound, as if his core answered it unknowingly – sympathized with it rather.
‘Why sympathize for something trivial?’ Damon thought at the back of his flickering consciousness. It was an automatic response for someone like him who grew in the worst possible environment. After all, he was practically raised in hell and was raised by Lucifer himself, the demon king of the Nether World. And so, sympathy was a useless thing.
Upon such train of thoughts, an image of winged Halfling flashed in his mind. The reason about sympathy and a shitload crap of bullshit about not giving a f**k vanishe
