[Training] fight like you

Thalassa

Too intoxicated to be scared

She still looks him over as he stands, noting his every step and stretch like she might spot the lie. Without hesitation or thought, she quips back in a flat voice, "No offense to you, but I felt worse multiple times this week." Her shoulders roll like they're casting aside the memories or the lingering worries, treating it as an almost-shrug at the comment of tasting her own blood. She could do without. It usually accompanied the bitter taste of wounded pride.

Her eyes find where the bonfire exists in the distance, debating the risks of walking with Danta. He's good company most days, but she's finding it hard to grasp the light banter, her mood decidedly somber, and she'd hate for him to suspect more than what she's said; but there's something to be said about the distraction, and Danta is nothing if not a force to draw attention. 

Flicking her tail in a moment of indecision, Thal finally figures that she might as well walk with him rather than awkwardly run into him again when she drops in on Asta before going home. The dark curtain of her hair rustles through the faint draft as she nods her head, turning back to the Maverick. "Sure."

// sun comin' up on a dream come around //

"None taken," Danta assures her, straightening out his shirt as much as he cares to and brushing dust and dirt from his pants. "Though perhaps we can spar again soon and I'll see if I can at least make it into your top three hurts for the week." It's an internal challenge he's all too happy to make with himself, though the odds are good that he'll forget about it before they next exchange blows.

Sure, she says, and given that the Maverick has already been given enough detail about how she's feeling (lost someone, doesn't want to talk about it or think about it, which - fair) he doesn't push for anything further. Instead, with a smile and a nod, he gestures down through the tunnels to the portal where they can head back home. If nothing else, at least they might carry the warmth of The Climb with them for a while longer, as well as the sting of their bruises.

~FIN

Dantalion

// one hundred years from the empire now //