InsaneJournal

 

I picked it up from its shelf, pulling it from it sheath to show the sharp edge it possessed. I looked at Rawhide, to see his reaction to the knife. It had been given to me as a possession of my father.

 

Rawhide offered up his arm as I did mine. I cut a fine line, using the skill that I had perfected in the surgery room; a slow draw had blood bubbling up. 

 

I hand the handle to Rawhide and he mimics my move, sporting his own blood line.

 

We bring our arms together, mixing blood, making blood brothers.