[If it were any other situation, perhaps something a little less heavyhearted, and if she knew him better, Beatrix very well might have suggested a friendly little wager between the two of them. Honestly, she still thinks about it. Perhaps another time, another circumstance, something that doesn't involve her in a dress or amidst a bunch of people that just make her think of home.
Instead of watching him, she focuses on her own. A broad stroke of her sword and she cuts down one that flutters down to the ground. She follows up with another to the next one closest. There's no way she's about to keep count. The number of the enemy doesn't matter, only that they carve a path to their destination. And distantly beyond that?
That they get the hell out of here. Why can't she ever meet people outside of these ridiculous happenings.]
no subject
Instead of watching him, she focuses on her own. A broad stroke of her sword and she cuts down one that flutters down to the ground. She follows up with another to the next one closest. There's no way she's about to keep count. The number of the enemy doesn't matter, only that they carve a path to their destination. And distantly beyond that?
That they get the hell out of here. Why can't she ever meet people outside of these ridiculous happenings.]