(No, I meant from... Nevermind.) Narrowleaf sighed. "You two are alright. That's all that matters." He said, chuckling weakly.
Narrowleaf shook his head once more. "No, Narrow. I'm not going to ask her. She's my wife, but we've gotta draw the line somewhere." He said. "Now shut up, Narrowleaf!"
Bolt summoned Sombra to a Royal contest. It was not rejectable. It was priority. Waiting meant forfeit and then Bolt won that way. "Bring it, Sombra." Bolt said, waiting.
"I was... goin' to tell you how much I love you?" Narrowleaf lied, bracing himself for nothing. (Sombra's dead, I believe. Brisk made him... poof.)
Bolt saw the palace he had so intricately designed in ruins. He fell to the ground, a shockwave of heated air fanning from him. He sat up, pieces of red gems in his hooves. His eyes began to twitch and he began exhaling heavily.