"What are you doing?" she asks as she deflects your sword. Her mouth is a sneer, but her eyes are sincere.
"My duty," you answer. Your mouth is set, but your eyes have doubts.
"Well why? Ever heard of a vacation?" she dodges a jab. She is impertinent, but more sensitive than anyone has been in a while.
"My life used to be one. But now I have purpose." You wonder just what that has become.
"Well I don't think massacring a bunch of teenagers is better than lying on a beach, but to each their own." She spins and stabs. Her eyes roll, but her cheeks flush.
You block her dagger, but don't respond.
She gives you a nod that looks so final, then sprays perfume in your face. Givenchy.
Smells like a choice.
