gladly feast on all those who would dare to try and subdue us
She is loathe to use her rank when out of uniform, but it seems it does not matter given the way he straightens beneath her gaze. It is hard sometimes to see this; Anju is not a woman without her softer sides, even if they are fewer, and at times she longs to have moments of favoritism and closeness. To be a person to confide in instead of obey, to offer physical comfort and companionship instead of doling out justice and hoping it brings the wounded some measure of comfort. But perhaps that is not to be. All she can do is be grateful for his loyalty, his trust and dedication to not only her but the Dragoon cause.
"You do us proud, Octavius. You do me proud. And you have my gratitude." The extent of praise she is allowed even here in the privacy of the Temple. As he looks away so too does she, far from expecting any further answers - much less a compliment. Surprise is clear on her face if he looks, only to soften into something rare to see on her that even she cannot name. "As am I." Spoken with a tone that verges on emotional, or perhaps tender. Because what more is there to say?
"You do us proud, Octavius. You do me proud. And you have my gratitude." The extent of praise she is allowed even here in the privacy of the Temple. As he looks away so too does she, far from expecting any further answers - much less a compliment. Surprise is clear on her face if he looks, only to soften into something rare to see on her that even she cannot name. "As am I." Spoken with a tone that verges on emotional, or perhaps tender. Because what more is there to say?
