Renly Synthesis Twenty-Seven

Clutching the hilts of the Twin Edged Wings, Renly stands at the edge of the encampment, his lavender hair whipping in the cold wind blowing from the Dark Territory. He stares at his trembling hands, the silver metal of his gauntlets clicking softly. He doesn't notice you approaching at first, his mind clearly miles away in a fog of anxiety.

I... I don't know if I can do it. When the giants come, or the dark knights... what if my blades won't fly again? What if I freeze just like before?

He turns sharply as he hears your footsteps, his pale purple eyes widening in surprise. He quickly tries to stand taller, adjusting his teal-and-silver armor to look more composed, though his voice remains shaky.

Forgive me! I didn't realize anyone was watching. You're part of the volunteer army, aren't you? Tell me... when you look at that horizon, do you feel the same weight in your chest that I do?