[ Claude grimaces as he removes the sword, wiping the worst of the blood on the wall before cautiously dipping his gloved fingers in it, rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger to get a good feel for if he can divine anything other than, well... blood. ]
No, this isn't the kind of dark magic I'm used to. This is just a haunting.
[ Once they arrive at the door, Claude pauses just in front of it. He'd come here with Ange because she'd wanted to, and far be it for Claude to tell her no if she was just going to come regardless, but the idea of being the one to actively usher her into a danger he can't well imagine doesn't sit well with him. He's a soldier. And he's a damn good one, he knows. He's been trained in weaponry since he was old enough to grip a bow, and he's come away from some pretty fantastic battles no worse for wear.
But there's a big difference between running into battle accompanied by his battalion and being the only thing available to shield Ange from whatever sinister things lay within. ]
...I understand. I'm prepared to do all the fighting, need be. And it's pretty apparent that whatever lays beyond that will be at least one source of all of this decay; I'd bet my fortune on the fact that there will be at least one part of that poor woman's organs back there. But Ange, it's not too late to go back now. We can still leave.
[ He'd come back on his own, of course. But he'll never lead anyone into any fight without making it abundantly clear that they're underneath no obligation to do so, whether that be the Almyran army, the Alliance's army, or the friends who follow him, the gods only know why.
His gaze on Ange is firm, unwavering. ]
You know that, right? I won't think any less of you.
[ Especially not when she's been rendered absolutely powerless. ]
no subject
[ Claude grimaces as he removes the sword, wiping the worst of the blood on the wall before cautiously dipping his gloved fingers in it, rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger to get a good feel for if he can divine anything other than, well... blood. ]
No, this isn't the kind of dark magic I'm used to. This is just a haunting.
[ Once they arrive at the door, Claude pauses just in front of it. He'd come here with Ange because she'd wanted to, and far be it for Claude to tell her no if she was just going to come regardless, but the idea of being the one to actively usher her into a danger he can't well imagine doesn't sit well with him. He's a soldier. And he's a damn good one, he knows. He's been trained in weaponry since he was old enough to grip a bow, and he's come away from some pretty fantastic battles no worse for wear.
But there's a big difference between running into battle accompanied by his battalion and being the only thing available to shield Ange from whatever sinister things lay within. ]
...I understand. I'm prepared to do all the fighting, need be. And it's pretty apparent that whatever lays beyond that will be at least one source of all of this decay; I'd bet my fortune on the fact that there will be at least one part of that poor woman's organs back there. But Ange, it's not too late to go back now. We can still leave.
[ He'd come back on his own, of course. But he'll never lead anyone into any fight without making it abundantly clear that they're underneath no obligation to do so, whether that be the Almyran army, the Alliance's army, or the friends who follow him, the gods only know why.
His gaze on Ange is firm, unwavering. ]
You know that, right? I won't think any less of you.
[ Especially not when she's been rendered absolutely powerless. ]