"Oh, I can understand that."
SMACK.
Brosh's rough hand slaps down, good and hard, on the seat of those worn pants. It's a sound blow--not barbarically hard, but definitely enough to raise a sting on Aldri's cheeks.
"It makes perfect sense to do whatever you have to to escape. We are all thieves here, right? We all fell down here the same way. So I don't begrudge ya that, believe me."
SMACK. SMACK.
The blows don't pause. They're coming at regular intervals now, alternating sides each time. Brosh's hand is hard and calloused, perfectly capable of spanking for days at a time.
"But that doesn't answer my question..."
SMACK!!
That blow shows off more of the bandit's brute strength. It slams right into the underside of Aldri's rear. Brosh is a bit of a bully. This isn't the first time he's punished someone who can't put up much of a fight.
"So I'm gonna ask again: where's my damn sword, boy?"
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