(im going to continue from here)
T r y n d a m e r e ‘ s leg twitched as she pulled it out. He tilted his head back and gripped at the dirt.
He could not help but laugh hysterically at the pain. “Son of a fucking–”
The rest was caught off with more laughter. “This really is not funny It hurts
like a bitch.”
“Can I walk?”
He hated waiting for things to heal. Tryndamere craves battle.
“
Ｉ
ᵃᵐ ᶰᵒᵗ ʷᵉᵃᵏ⋅ ᵀʰᶦˢ ᵖᵃᶦᶰ ᶦˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦᶰᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ʷᶦᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒᶫᵈᶦᶰᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒᶰᵉ'ˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ᶫᶦᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶜʰᶦᶫᵈ⋅" ᵀʳʸᶰᵈᵃᵐᵉʳᵉ ᵇᶦᶜᵏᵉʳᵉᵈ⋅ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵖᵘᶫᶫ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵐᶰᵉᵈ ᵗʰᶦᶰᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ᶫᵉᵍ ˢᵒ ᶦᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶠᵉˢᵗᵉʳ⋅"