B Support Conversation

Lethe was tired. Oh so very tired. They had recently fought in the battle at the huge bridge with Petrine as the enemy general. Needless to say, it had been one of their more difficult fights. At least Ranulf had joined them on the field this time, and Jill had even managed to recruit that lazy man, Haar.

Lethe stretched and sat back against the tree she was positioned under. While she had now to come accept the beorc and usually ate with them, there were times when she preferred to be alone. Now was one of those times. She had warned Ranulf though, so that the blue cat would not get worried.

It was quiet. So quiet in fact, that Lethe could easily fall asleep. Not that she ever would, as that would only get her killed. However, she had no more time to think as an axe came flying out of nowhere and embedded itself above her head. Lethe sprang up, ready to attack, when she saw someone approaching. It was that red-headed idiot, Kieran.

"My apologies!" Kieran exclaimed. "My training is so tough and vigorous that I sometimes lose control of myself."

"Watch where you're throwing that thing…" Lethe growled. Kieran stared at her. "Anyway, why are you here training? Shouldn't you be celebrating Petrine's fall with the others?"

"Ah! While our victory over such a powerful and worthy opponent is a joyous thing, one must not celebrate for long," he replied.

"Why?" Lethe asked.

"Petrine is just one soldier. There are many more standing in our way to liberate beautiful Crimea and accomplish Princess Elincia's dream," Kieran said, sounding oddly quiet. "And a soldier must always train. Must always strive to improve so that they do not die on the battlefield. I have done my share of celebrating."

"Continuously training to improve and keep your life," Lethe mused. "Wise words, beorc."

"And I continue to improve!" Kieran suddenly yelled dramatically. "I am the most powerful warrior the enemy will ever encounter, for I have a fire in my soul. This fire is my love for Crimea. I shall train till I bleed out, until my body dries up from the sweat I have lost, so that I am worthy enough to stand beside Princess Elincia!"

"If you do that, you'll die," Lethe replied. "And it would be a disgrace to any soldier to die from training."

"The Bishop Rhys said the same thing. At any rate, I have to prepare, for the Laguz Ranulf has promised to aid in my training, and that shut-eyed fiend, Oscar, continues to improve at an alarming rate! I must train harder!"

"Ranulf said he'd spar with you?"

"Yes. He seemed amused when I challenged him and said he'll teach me his savage and beautiful fighting style."

"Savage…" Lethe began.

"Not that it is a bad thing! Savagery in the battlefield can be useful, and combined with your agility and strength, it makes Gallia a formidable nation with excellent soldiers!"

Lethe decided then, that as idiotic as he was, he really didn't seem as the insulting type.

"Now," Kieran said, "If you'll excuse me, I shall take my leave. I must-"

He was interrupted by a loud howl from somewhere within the forest.

"Sounds like a wolf is nearby," Lethe observed.

"A wolf! Excellent! I will wait for Ranulf by training. I will wrestle that wolf with my bare hands!" He ran in the direction of the forest.

Lethe watched him leave, an amused expression on her face. "He's an idiot," she said to herself. "A soldier with good ideals and morals, but an idiot nonetheless. He is somewhat intriguing though. For a beorc."

Lethe got up, suddenly feeling an odd itch to train.