[ Those echoing thoughts from Shiro are heavy in their connection, unconcealed and burdened with purpose. He's doubting - not her but himself. Whatever terrible things are in Shiro's past still haunt him, the things she knows he was forced to do. To become. Because she knows who he is and he isn't the monster he thinks he is. Just as he says she isn't the one she thinks she is. ]
Water, right. I'll be right back.
[ Blood is gross, but when people are constantly trying to kill you and you have to have a mouthful of it every other week, you kind of get used to the taste. She hopes he never gets to that point, though. She'll make sure he doesn't.
Shrugging quickly back into her layers of scarves, she tugs her gloves into place as she exits the tent, using the darkness and distractions of the evening to cover her as she blurs back to where they'd been earlier. She's back in no time at all, probably just enough for him to take stock of things, and she slips into the tent with a cup of water and something sweet and breadlike in hand. ]
no subject
Just as he says she isn't the one she thinks she is.]Water, right. I'll be right back.
[ Blood is gross, but when people are constantly trying to kill you and you have to have a mouthful of it every other week, you kind of get used to the taste. She hopes he never gets to that point, though. She'll make sure he doesn't.
Shrugging quickly back into her layers of scarves, she tugs her gloves into place as she exits the tent, using the darkness and distractions of the evening to cover her as she blurs back to where they'd been earlier. She's back in no time at all, probably just enough for him to take stock of things, and she slips into the tent with a cup of water and something sweet and breadlike in hand. ]
How's the arm?