[Is that true, she wonders. Is she genuinely more than the mantle of responsibility she has practically drowned herself beneath? In the eyes of Zidane, of Eustace, yes. Not at all unlike Dohalim's observations of her person. The closer any of them get to the truth of that, however, the more she feels she can only afford to offer the proverbial embrace of cold and isolation.

She looses a breath, caught up in his words, in undeniable thoughts of her person. The person who exists beyond that of 'General Beatrix.' It seems like such a common topic in this place, and she suspects it is only so because she has nothing else here to follow. She has no other alternatives. This is not how she ever wanted to make this journey of self-discovery.]

I should think it rather evident that I have not always been a military general.

[Beatrix begins, dropping her gaze onto Dohalim's choice of garb for this role he seems to play, though he also seems perfectly himself.]

I became a knight when I was quite young. Young enough that I do not recall much before it. As such, I suspect my life has always been attached to a sword. To servitude. I have not made it a habit to host too great a number of personal thoughts.

[Or desires. Or dreams. Or passions, it would seem.]