She looked up at him and the crayon in her hand fell. She got up seeing so much blood over him. “Ludwig, whatever happened to you?” Her voice was a mere whisper. He could feel pity and sympathy in her heart. “Why is there so much blood on you?” she asked as she stepped closer to him. There was blood on his torso. His breathing was ragged. The black shirt he was wearing was held by one button in the center and it was torn on the side. The crimson blood smudged his skin, but there was no visible wound, only a slight cut on his biceps.
