Trost Vs Winchester 2

"To those who shall spill blood in our honor today, and those whose blood shall be spilled, we salute you." The announcer had said at the start of the contests.

Gaine Winchester was in the locker room savoring a mouthful of river grapes when he heard the statement, and he had nearly spat his grapes with mirth.

It was not that Gaine did not think this statement to be in praise of himself and his peers.

It was how it sounded coming for one who had never been involved in the act of the spilling, literal or otherwise.

The man had made it seem almost comedic, almost literature worthy, these acts of sheer violence that were soon to follow his speech.

"Violence is always, always, a misdeed, my son. But sometimes, it is a necessity," Gaine's father had told him when he was younger, long before he felt the first quickening of MANNA inside him.

"Sometimes," The man said, his voice calm and persuading, "it is the only way by which to show strength."

If the Winchester clan had a motto,