<style>0</style>
~ Third Person POV ~
"Some day, eh?"
"Get off your bloody horse, heretic." The sound of spitting could be heard through the damp and dreary tunnel. The person who was assaulted with such liquid stayed silent. A grin etched on his face as he stared amused at the sight of the pathetic zealot.
"Horse? Excuse me for being quite frank with you," the person glanced around him, shackles restraining his limbs, "but I don't see any horses around here."
The zealot went red in the face and contemplated whether executing the damned heretic was worth the consequences he would suffer afterwards. Deciding it wasn't worth it, the zealot backed down and spit on the shackled person once more.