[Rosamund doesn't look much better off. No matter how many times she's been made to watch it, or some variation on the same theme. This one always comes like a new blow to a barely healing wound.
She looks to him when it's over though. Feeling a touch guilty, dragging him along for the ride.]
They do. [She swallows a little. Shakes her head.] And they have a way of making you face things you didn't realize you were hiding from.
I'm sorry, by the way. It's a very nasty thing to see, all of a sudden.
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She looks to him when it's over though. Feeling a touch guilty, dragging him along for the ride.]
They do. [She swallows a little. Shakes her head.] And they have a way of making you face things you didn't realize you were hiding from.
I'm sorry, by the way. It's a very nasty thing to see, all of a sudden.
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...It's all right. [ nothing will ever top vash's memories which he has largely blocked out. ] Not like we can control the wind.
[ he'll just set aside all the paintball equipment and rest on a team bench instead, inviting her to do the same. ]
I know a little, from Ylfa and Gerard. [ about the fairy tale stuff, and what hers must obviously be. ] Still... [ WHAT A CRAZY ADAPTATION ]
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Rosamund puts her weapon down too, settling on the bench and putting her elbows on her knees, hands propping up her chin.]
Yes, I suppose you probably got to see their memories too. Our stories gone all wrong. Though — honestly? They weren't right to begin with.