The slap seemed to snap her into some form of conscious reality and she scooted away on the ground.
"What the devil's wrong with you?" I roared out at her.
I gave her tear stained face one last look of incomprehension before I turned back to Trent.
I rolled Trent over. The first hit had been the worst. It had left a nasty gauge in his forehead, which was bleeding freely down the side of his face. I couldn't tell whether the damage was more than just superficial or not, because of all the blood. He was out cold.
Deshavi began to wail at the sight of all the blood and clutched her knees to her chest. I had to slow this bleeding somehow. Trent abruptly stirred and I relaxed inwardly glad that he wasn't in a coma. His eyes blinked open and he said something that he shouldn't have, as he clutched at his head with both hands. As his hand came away all bloody he found Deshavi and gave her a look that was not nice at all.
"I've had it!" He spit out with all the venom his words could muster.
Awkwardly with my help he got to his feet. He abruptly pulled free of my grasp and stumbled away towards a more secluded part of the cut still clutching at his head.
At the sight of him leaving Deshavi truly began to sob piteously.
Oh God what to do?
I glanced down and caught sight of some old scars on my arm. This could work!
I ran after Trent leaving Deshavi to sob.
"Trent!" I said, as I grasped his arm to stop him. He tried to shrug out of my hold on him, but I held on.
"Go away!" He said unkindly.
"Trent you need to hear a story!"
"I don't want to hear any of your stupid stories!"
I grasped him, even more firmly and waited for his pain filled eyes to meet mine. In utter sincerity I said, "Please humor an old man and listen to what I have to say!"
He stopped moving to be free and I sensed my opening.
"I had a pet once, a cat. It really wasn't my pet it was my wife's. I hated the thing, but I was stuck with it, because my wife adored it. It seemed to know how I felt about it and it deliberately goaded me. It would saturate my favorite chair with its hair, scratch up my favorite pair of boots and other little things just to annoy me. My wife died in childbirth. I was a mess. I couldn't see my way forward. In the turmoil of that time the cat disappeared. At first I thought good riddance and then I realized that in a way that cat was a part of the life I had shared with my wife. It wasn't right to just walk out on a responsibility to care for something my wife had loved. I went looking for the cat. I found the caught in a trap. One of its legs was firmly caught in the jaws of the trap and it was going to take both of my hands in order to free it from the trap. The cat was maddened by fear and pain and I knew it would attack me."