Otter Creek every step that i take

Charles didn't like the way that Ramesses judged him for his choices. He was a man, and he wouldn't be prodded into being anything else by this man. Charles'd been compliant most his life, and he wouldn't be to this man. Well. He would leave the Saints; but not, he told himself, for the sake of this man, but because that was a choice that he made for himself. He would not tell Ramesses of it, though perhaps the man would draw his own conclusions upon seeing Charles absent on whatever battlefield may follow.

Growing discomfort in his bones from both Ramesses' prying looks and the subtle threats of violence, Charles felt the growing urge to flee. I — have to go, he said hastily. I'll see you on the battle-field. A blatant lie, of course, but Ramesses did not need to know that in this moment. A nervous lick of his lips betrayed his discomfort, and Charles made to scuttle off, intending to never see this man again if he could help it.