they say that war is hell, but,
true hell begins when the battle ends
and you're the only one whose
hands still drip red
Rexanna nods to Deimos, her smile faltering slightly. But she follows him into the interior of the room he brings them into. “I hope she heals quickly.” She offers, a condolence. Not sure where this fits in timelines if she’s seen Amalia or not. Regardless, the Shield has her Sword and that’s certainly something. When she had been impaled and blinded, broken and destroyed, it had been her closest friends and Bastien that kept her from delving too far into the dark.
Regardless, the focus shifts to Neron, and she perks up a bit more at that, moving to lean against the door frame of the door he’d just passed through – arms folding across her chest as she looks to him. “I certainly like him more than Zariah.” She says softly, a hum of a laugh as if it was something difficult – a hard line to beat.
“But I don’t know him very well. He’s offered to help the Grounds during the fire season should we need it. Which is a nice enough gesture, and he was kind… Not in the way that Zariah pretended to be. It was like… Well, I’m not sure. It was strange, but enjoyable?” She laughs at the confusion of it all, brows furrowing before she looks to Deimos with a shrug.
Regardless, the focus shifts to Neron, and she perks up a bit more at that, moving to lean against the door frame of the door he’d just passed through – arms folding across her chest as she looks to him. “I certainly like him more than Zariah.” She says softly, a hum of a laugh as if it was something difficult – a hard line to beat.
“But I don’t know him very well. He’s offered to help the Grounds during the fire season should we need it. Which is a nice enough gesture, and he was kind… Not in the way that Zariah pretended to be. It was like… Well, I’m not sure. It was strange, but enjoyable?” She laughs at the confusion of it all, brows furrowing before she looks to Deimos with a shrug.
REXANNA
