Optimistic
Arthur huffed.
Here they were, in the middle of a battlefield, men dying by the hundreds around them, flames sprouting up seemingly out of nowhere despite the rain pouring around them, a cliff steadily creeping closer despite the fact that they were in the middle of the battlefield and a goddamned dragon flying around overhead.
How on earth Merlin could be so optimistic was beyond the golden king, but it would be the death of him someday.
Just not today.
