[Koltira lowers his head to meet the glance, as though coming out of a daze. Ashraf's blood is still on his gauntlets, and he wipes his hands furiously on the grass, not stopping until they're clean. Self-loathing fills him like bile, and it's evident in the slump of his shoulders, the drawn, tight expression on his face, and the absolute misery in his voice. He replies softly.]
no subject
As much as I will allow, yes.