She starts to laugh, their differences and similarities could not be more pronounced. "I had that in a series of a few months, Commander. Outside of the breaking of siege, all war is done in such a form."

Lakshmi shakes her head - "I rode the cavalry line, granted, so I must acknowledge my own preference to that. I do not think you would enjoy that much either." Her eyes lift, brief and bemused, teasing lightly. "But fighting in streets, I only knew of it in the fall of cities themselves to how I was taught my forms. For many years... it was considered dishonorable. I only began waging campaigns in them... once I became aware it was the only place I could fight what was happening."

A memory to flesh out just what she means, the streets of London, not beautiful clean areas of royal family residence: but the mishappen walls of Whitechapel, with the spider like metal railways that were screeching over it. How hard it could be to see in the thick mist - worse still in the dense smoke left over from the coal burning in many homes. The stench of shit and mud that wafts up from broken underfoot cobble streets that never seemed to dry from their damp. When you could never be sure what was about to come lunging out of the corner and lunge it does.

She wrinkles her nose. "So many civilians underfoot? Preserve me from it."