As the man spoke, Kayle grew more and more angry. That wasn't how healers were at all! Sure, some were, but many of the healers that Kayle had known were always caring of others. Kayle had always done his best to save those he can, while preserving his own life so that he could help more people. He had paid for every person he had used his magic to heal, and still had the scars from it, inner and outer, so why couldn't the man understand? Had he ever had to make the decision to save a man or lose his own life, had he ever needed to watch as someone was healed, while at the same time a wound appeared on him?
Frowning deeply now, Kayle shouted, "If you're going to speak to me that way, then it's obvious that your lady doesn't need me that much!" With that, he turned, running down the street, nearly running into a couple people.
He probably could have outrun the man, since that claymore obviously wasn't light, but he had barely made it down the road before he was on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. His heart, which he had traded for a dying man's, could only take so much, and it was a trouble just going up and down the stairs. Right then, he felt like his heart was going to give out. Placing a hand on his chest, he struggled to get his heart rate back to normal, his breathing ragged and uneven.
