Pokemon Zirconium

It was spooky in here, but Voth had seen worse. Walking around the abandoned museum with a flashlight and Antonio's sword, her eye nervously flicked through the empty and yawning interior. The light never quite reached the walls, leaving long shadows over everything...

She'd been doing very well, under Inshabel's wing and with her house. She was starting to come out of her shell and leave it behind, and hadn't berserked in almost a month. It was a nice life, exploring the islands during the day and coming home to people who cared about her, although she still felt a little uneasy. She hadn't done anything to deserve all this... The only thing to do was be worth it.

There were more than a few Pokemon trainers around and about, and she'd worked hard to be the best she could. Since her first battle she'd learned a lot, devouring the guidebooks Inshabel bought for her and studying them on their computer. A pokedex was too expensive, so it was the best she could do. Once she'd been able to look up territory and habits, she'd started adding to her team in earnest.

Poking her head around a corner, she lit up and stifled a happy noise at the sight of what she was looking for. After seeing one on Google and then confirming they were real, she'd known she had to catch one of them. It was the coolest little friend she'd seen yet, and the wild one was sitting there, studying a flag on the ground.

She readied herself and got a pokeball in her free hand before walking out, eye narrowing and shoulders up. The sword immediately turned to her and drew itself, floating threateningly in the air. She smiled happily at it before tossing out her first choice; she knew it would be a tough battle, but she had a plan!

Fib the Shellder looked around and chattered before spotting the Honedge, it's eyes widening and the burbles turning panicked.

<H-hello, there, pal. It's->

<I will split you in half!> it thundered at him, before he Withdrew, clamping his shell tight. Voth blinked and swallowed, before she swung her arms and got into the battle.

"Fib! You can do it! This is what we trained for!" She cheered, the shell creaking open an inch for the  clam to stare in horror at the blade. It danced in the air, red waves briefly flickering around it as it's attack power increased, the blue eye in the crossguard narrowing in concentration. Voth saw it and pointed-

"Okay, Fib, use Protect!" She called, before a white orb briefly appeared around the Shellder and it's defense raised even higher. She knew what was coming-

<Your armor will not save you!> It thundered deeply, suddenly slicing upward, up to ceiling in an Aerial ace that hit like a thunderbolt. Fib went into the floor, the edge of the blade sinking in and then slicing a deep arc into Fib's shell. The Shellder quailed before it paused and looked up at the length of metal stuck in him. The sword jerked him around, trying to get itself out of the wound. Voth winced before she called out "Now! Water Gun!"

The jet hit the Honedge in it's eye and drenched the sash, the sword pausing to stare down at Fib unbelievingly. The clam made apologetic burbling sounds even as the sword seemed to vanish into the darkness, leaving it's place across Fib- only for a slash to ring out, once again slamming Fib down and leaving cracks across his shell. The Homedge reappeared after it's shadow strike, staring imperiously,

"Fib, you did great! Come back!" Voth encouraged, landing out his pokeball's beam. She pickedout another one and took a deep breath, tossing it out and revealing a Houndour. It barked and growled, embers spilling out between it's jaws.

"Okay, Killy! I promised you tough fights- here we go!" She cheered. After catching him in a junkyard, she'd worked hard to earn the little monster's trust and respect, eventually achieving a kind of understanding. He even listened to her most of the time, more than her pidgey did. She'd just had to show him she knew what she was doing.

<Be wary, beast, or your blood will stain->

 <I'm gonna bite you in HAAAAAAAAAAALF!> It Howled, so loud Voth almost put her hands over her ears. Killy's eyes glowed like embers as his attack power increased. The Honedge paused before it swung and slashed him across his flank, and then the dog lunged in a ferocious bite. Flames spilled out of his mouth from the Fire Fang, rushing across the surface of the blade; it tried to get out, but the Houndour bit down tighter, rills of blood from his gums mixing with boiling spittle.

The Honedge screamed like wind through reeds, once more using Fury Cutter, but Killy's mouth again lit up like a furnace as he used Fire Fang, jerking his neck around to whip the sword around. It's sash had caught fire and was burning around them. The sword hastened to end it and decapitate the Hellhound-

Killy used Torment, blocking the attack and slamming the sword to the floor, biting and trying to savage it while it chipped his teeth. Voth threw out a Great Ball and stood on her tiptoes, crossing both her fingers as it rolled, rolled, and then locked.

"YAY! We did it! Great job, Killy! You were amazing! Who's a good boy? Huuuh? Who's my good special boy~" she asked, ruffling his head and using a potion on him. He licked at her hands before snapping at her fingers, but not hard. She laughed and sent him back to his pokeball before taking chalk out of her pocket and looking for a door to go home.

Team Witcher

Up in a tree amongst the leaves, Scylla didn't see why Eva liked this so much. It wasn't a matter of balance; she was light on her feet and her tentacles had her safely braced. But all it would take was a branch to crack and she'd fall far enough down to hurt. Her lights were off, and she'd dulled her armor with ash to keep the moon from glinting off it.

With the end of the Hotel's season, she and Eva had moved back into Molehu and her submarine with their brothers and picked up where they'd left off. She loved the training, loved seeing the results of her hard work out in the field. Even though the Cat school still had empty rooms and gaps in it's membership, she'd tried to make up for it by brightening their days as much as she could. Between playing tag with Declan in the echoing halls, brewing potions with Na-mes, and spending time with Caprice and her sisters, she was as happy as she could be... Except for the eclipse over her sun.

Na-mes had been the one who'd found her alone in the courtyard, standing in front of the gate, tentacles limp and head down. The silence and the dark had reminded her of the undertones in her own thoughts...

Scylla blinked and looked down when she heard a branch crack under a footstep; her prey was approaching. The nearby village was being stalked in the night by some kind of predator that sounded all too familiar to her, and after checking her codex she thought she knew what was going on. She didn't have the senses of her brothers to check for tracks and bent blades of grass, but she could put together clues well enough. Especially after reviewing the lunar cycle.

Gathering herself, she checked her potions and her swords, her eyes almost all pupil. The night was barely there for her; she could see just as well even in total darkness. Where she'd come from, light had never come at all. The moon might as well have been another sun.

It had been almost this dark in the courtyard, when she'd told Na-mes what was weighing on her. There was no denying what she was, and pretending wouldn't keep the others from danger. The danger she was putting them in just from being there. When she'd thought they had all perished in the wake of Umbrella's assault, it had crushed her soul like a cockroach under a boot. She'd never felt so bad, so empty inside; but if Molehu was attacked again, because of want for her, it would be her fault. Her fault if any of them were hurt. Her fault if any of them died. It had been tearing her apart.

The Wereleopard stalked beneath her, and Scylla tensed, readying herself to leap. It was big, bigger than her, but she wasn't afraid. One predator to another, she thought she could take him. It took another step, tattered clothes fluttering in the wind before it tensed and looked right at her.

She boomed an Aarde out from her hand before drawing her silver sword and throwing herself with her tentacles, landing on it's back and stabbing deep into it's shoulder before it screamed and ripped her off, tossing her aside. She rolled with the motion and came up, tense-shouldered, red lights bursting into being from all over her. She could've used her power, could've lit up everything until it crumbled into ash or exploded with channeled energy, but it would've been a cheat. Dancing away from a swipe of it's claws, she had a much better plan.

Na-mes had listened to her pour her heart out in silence, looking down at her while she miserably talked. She loved each and every one of them, but he was her favorite. She'd never say it out loud in case it hurt Mirrit or Hrol's feelings, but it was true. She'd stared up at him, eyes watering up, before he'd finally quietly said the one thing that had made her stay.

"Please don't go."

She'd hugged him as tight as she could, but already, she knew. No matter what, they would stay a pack. No matter what...

It roared and pounced, but she was moving as well, slipping underneath and to the right as she cut it again. She flowed like water around it's aggression, careful to always have room, careful not to leave herself open or close to it's jaws. It outweighed her heavily, and the swings of it's claws made the air whistle from how sharp they were. Tail lashing behind it, the beast once more tried to unzip her guts, but she had circled again to it's side-

Her tentacles seized it by the arm before she threw it as hard as she could at a tree, running over and slicing deep into it's leg. It roared again and she snapped her limbs to it's arms, holding them tight and bringing them both face to face. She saw only aggression and hunger in it's eyes, before her lights shrieked brighter with a whine and left them dull like stones.

"STOP!" She commanded it, the air seeming to ripple around them. It's snarl was cut off midsound, before it's mouth slowly closed and it lowered it's arms. The fury in it's eyes was undimmed, but it didn't struggle, just standing there and staring at her. She frowned up before releasing her hold.

"...KNEEL!" She commanded again. She wasn't sure if she had to yell or not, but in practice it had seemed to help. The Wereleopard took a knee and she pried it's jaws open before popping the cork on a vial and pouring it down it's throat.

"This might hurt. I'm sorry... I want to help you." She swallowed, putting her hands on the sides of it's head. It was nearly vibrating with the urge to spill her blood, but as her light once again turned up with a whine, it's eyes were filling with the radiance. Smoke poured out of it's ears before it screamed again and fell on it's back, writhing in pain. Scylla winced and put out a hand, trying to stabilize the agony flowing through the monst- no. This thing wasn't a monster, not at it's core.

When the seizure had stopped, a teenager was lying on the ground in tattered clothes, dead to the world. Scylla smiled softly down at him, trying to keep from panting from the effort she'd expended, but it felt good. She'd burned the Lycanthropy out of him like starving a fever, and as she poured another potion down his throat- one she'd made herself- she let herself smile. What someone was didn't matter, just who they were. Especially now she believed that. She didn't think the youth in front of her was evil, he'd just been cursed with something awful. He didn't deserve to die for something that wasn't his fault. At least it had worked...

Scylla smiled down at him before dragging him against a tree and headed off, back toward the little village. Helping or not, the payment was going to Molehu's coffers no matter what.

She hoped Eva had made shrimp for dinner.

Bloodsuckers

Iodine's laboratory was the sort of place waiting for a fire.

It was a large, large circle, partitioned and sectioned off into squares and areas through tables and stacks of books high enough to serve as railings and walls. There were diagrams pinned to notes attached to scribblings that trailed downward like ferns in a forest, and bits and pieces of machinery and Equiptment in a hundred varying states between working perfectly and disassembled. The chandelier hanging down was festooned with softly whirling and tinkling glass spheres and tubes, each briefly glowing a different color in a constant pattern.

Electricity crackled above the Vampire's head, as she adjusted a glass array of lights on an arm to better focus on what she had in front of her. Iodine muttered to herself while she tinkered and adjusted a series of diodes and connectors. It had been one thing to finish Anne's friendship detector- to really finish it to her own specifics and standards- but creating a way for artificial beings to appreciate music was proving more difficult. This was a field she'd previously never worked in or experienced, and so Iodine had been sitting here since the sun had gone down-

When the heavy hand fell on her shoulder, she jumped and screamed while the other snorted laughter.

The Vampire was taller and weightier, regal and cold. Her deep red hair spilled over her black armor in contrast to her white corpse-flesh, and her smile looked more like a sneer. Iodine glared up at her and crossed her arms.

"Don't DO that..."

"I'll stop when it stops working." Said Abigail, looking around. "Is Noel here? I seem to have lost her again."

"I don't believe so. How, er, would we tell?"

"...Noel?" Abigail called, crossing her arms and waiting for a few seconds. When no answer was forthcoming she shrugged. "I don't know what I expected. Well, in any case, is it ready yet?"

"Er..." Iodine looked uncomfortable before getting up and moving pieces and parts around on another table, finally lifting a sword up and handing it off to Abigail. The armored Vampire eyed the edge and then gripped it tightly, briefly waving it around.

"How do I...?"

"You grip it like- there, there you are." Iodine said, putting her hands on her hips and watching the sword suddenly run with red fire. "That's Banefire. It will cling and burn so long as there is fuel. I haven't quite achieved the Witch-ice, however. I'll need another night with it."

"Another- oh, fine. Cease fiddling with your little earth-friend's bits and get to it already, would you?" She asked in an order, setting the blade down overtop Iodine's table. The scientist bristled.

"I'll get to it in time! You can't merely rush these sorts of things, dood-"

"Yes you can. I am now, and I want it done." Abigail said flatly, before leaving. Iodine mouthed her words and made a face before sighing and settling the sword in front of her to open the innards in the pommel and crossguard.

She didn't notice when Noel crawled out of a cupboard and watched her for three hours, but by the time she was finished with the blade, the other was gone.

Black wednesday

Circe hurried as quick as she could, but they were already gaining on her.

Market-night had come to Stygia, and she'd headed into town with her rusty wheelbarrow, filled to the brim with shiny rocks and small trinkets she'd cleaned and polished. Long before she'd had finery and indulgences, Circe was thin and dirty, wearing a potato sack for a dress. She'd dyed it black with silt from a river, but it looked ugly still. She wasn't wearing shoes, and the rocky road here from the ash plains hadn't been fun. Once she'd secured passage through the gates, she'd headed to the causeways, resigned. The Devils with more money had greater precedent, but she was stuck with the other junk-sellers on the fringes.

Setting herself between a wagon selling cooked rats and a stand of wolf T-shirts, Circe set her wares up and went to work, keeping money and change in a little iron lockbox. Wheeling and dealing was a part of the market, and she did well for herself, especially without buying food for the night. Only realizing she was being stared at and sized up had made her finally pack up, quickly leaving before anyone else had even started their teardown.

It wasn't until she'd made it to the edge of the mountains did she turn and spot the demons following her with a hellhound on a chain. The piece of wood with nails driven in it she kept for protection seemed too small in her mind as she'd frantically hurried on.

It hadn't mattered. They'd caught her along a bend in the path, jumping down and landing, braying laughter and fire. When she told the story later on, Circe would always leave out how she'd screamed in fear. There were four, and they were much bigger than her, red skin under chainmail. The Hellhound barked and slavered molten spittle, barring it's teeth. They'd kept laughing with an echo as they threw her out of the way and ripped into her wheelbarrow, tossing her treasures aside.

The roar had sounded like a T-Rex or a Dragon, something stretching it's lungs and letting everything for miles know it was discontent. The demons had eyed the walls of lead around them before one had shoved her lockbox at her and demanded she open it. She would've- at that point Circe had only wanted to escape with her life-

The boulder came out of nowhere, the stone impacting and shaking the earth as two demons were pulverized underneath it. Circe wriggled to her hands and knees, watching something land from it's plummet and slowly straighten all the way out. Her impression was of height and power, and she put her hands over her head to hide under her tangled hair.

"...You woke me up. Go away." Said the monster in a low, low voice. She never saw what Nyx had done to either one; only that when she finally looked up after all the sounds had died, one was dead and broken in a small crater, while the other was so much gristle spread out in an arc. The other Devil stomped hard enough to shake the ground and waved her arms as the Hellhound barked and ran, chain leash trailing. She didn't know why she felt so tired and drained...

The last thing she saw before it passed a metal claw over her face and she slept was tall, tall horns and an unhappy little frown.

When Circe awoke, she scrambled up and flinched, looking around; she was at her shack in the plains, her cart next to her. Her eyes widened before she checked, but everything she hadn't sold was back inside, along with her money. She frowned and looked around again, but the only clues were tracks in the grey; hers from leaving, and a long tread that ended at her and went back along itself toward the foothills. The other must've carried her and her cart...

Circe scratched her head and shivered, staring back up at the red-capped peaks again before she took her cart inside and locked the door.

Bill's friend.

She'd never be comfortable here, but that was the point.

Jack sat in the church basement, head on her fists and watching someone she'd never seen before introduce themselves. Wren and Anne were waiting in her truck, the others in the dream while she was in a meeting. It had been a long month, harder than she'd thought it would be, but she'd made it without slipping up. Continued work on Molehu in her off time and Danai visiting every so often kept her busy.

The woman sat down, and Jack crouched lower in her seat, but it was too late. Whatever the person leading the meeting was saying, she couldn't quite hear, but they were glancing at her. Up until now she'd passed or not said anything, but eventually she stood up and crossed her arms, frowning.

"...I'm Jack. Parents wanted another boy." She shrugged. "It's been about a month since my last drink, and damn, it's... A grind. I quit work for the day and I know I'm not taking the edge off, it's just going to build up. I put a hole in a wall over an argument and no one I live with will talk about it. I wake up pissed and go to bed pissed... It shouldn't be like this, but I guess that's on me." She said, looking from face to face and feeling overexposed. She was trying to enunciate everything clear instead of mumble.

"I've been thinking about it, and putting stuff together I hadn't before. Like how after my dad died, I'd find emoty bottles around and not know why they were there. My mom never drank in front of me, but I wonder... Well, whatever. Past now. I dunno, I'm just wondering if without drinking I'm a worse person than usual. That hole I mentioned, there's this girl, Trace, and she put cat ears on my power armor. Which is nothing, right? Just a joke. Except I got in her face and punched a wall because I really, really wanted to punch her. Dinner later was tense." She deadpanned and then sighed.

"But happiness from a bottle is false, I have to keep that in mind. Things are good otherwise. Things are real good... I just have to not fuck everything up, that's all. I have to stay strong, it's just- I'm not the kind to moan and complain, but the days are too long and they're getting longer. That's, uh, all." She said, sitting down.

As the meeting went on, she grit her teeth and felt a bite of guilt again.

Golden

Midday was giving way to dusk as Agatha and Kirk walked the road back to Greencrest, the woman easily keeping pace with his horse. She'd had plenty of sunlight today, and felt energized and content. As long as she got at least four hours of direct light, she didn't have to eat for the day, and would only need four or so hours of sleep in the night before waiting for sunrise. Being more than half plant had come with a few perks she didn't quite mind.

They both stopped and looked over; from behind hilltops, they could see tents and streamers, hear excited and happy people, smell food being fried and prepared. Kirk looked overjoyed as he waved at the spectacle.

"It's a Fair! Lucky us, eh? Here I'd thought it would be all business this trip." He laughed, leading the way. He turned around after a few steps, looking confused at Agatha, who was standing and uncomfortably still looking over.

"...Sorry, I'd rather not. Why don't we keep going? We'll be halfway back before setting camp for the night." She said anxiously.

"What? You'd really rather sleep in a field instead of a bed?" Kirk asked her.

"Yes. Absolutely." She said without hesitation. Kirk kept looking at her like she was speaking another language before she sighed.

"...They'll see me, and it won't be their day anymore. They'll cheer, and joke, and offer us free food and drink, and I'll be introduced to more than a few first-born sons. They'll toast me and ask for stories and... And it's not right. They'll put me over themselves as though I'm a saint, or better than them, like I'm some sort of hero."

"Aren't you some sort of hero?" Kirk asked, nonplussed.

"No, not at all! I'm still a nobody, just one who can lift a cow over her head. I don't do this for fame or for the common good, I do this because someone has to, and I've yet to be enough. To be good enough. I don't deserve praise and I certainly don't deserve adulation for just happening to exist and doing a mediocre job."

"...She really did a number on you, didn't she?" Kirk asked quietly, and Agatha looked away, going red from being caught out. "They cheer and all that because they like you, Agatha. It isn't about putting you on a pedestal- it's that when people need help, or need saving or defended, you're always there. You're a hero whether you want to be or not."

"You've that right." She admitted, still wavering.

"Just once, imagine having fun without those sorts of worries-"

"I have fun!"

"Name one fun thing you've done in the last two weeks."

Agatha paused and looked askance, before opening her mouth and raising a finger to point-

"Other than gardening."

Agatha lowered her finger and closed her mouth before slowly nodding. "You may... be right on this matter. Oh, alright- we'll, we'll have a day at the Fair. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you just were hoping for a lion's share of the free food." She smiled.

"Well, you can't eat meat anyway. It may as well not go to waste!"

When they got there, it was much as Agatha had foreseen- a lot of people and animals milling around in a field, food being made, games being played and a few rides still set up, and once they'd realized who she was, it was again much as she'd guessed. People were overjoyed to see her, and she did her best to pass words with them in return. The crops were growing well, ready for harvest, the wolf pack she'd driven away hadn't come back, had she fought a troll, had she ever fought a griffin, if she needed anything-

Doing her best to keep her feet, she eventually put her arm over Kirk's horse and squeezed the more anxiety she felt, until it turned and gave her a haughty, affronted look. Once they made their way to the food and sat, she was encircled, everyone talking and passing plates and fare around. She took the middling vegetables for her meal, while Kirk stuffed three plates full and clanked a tankard of beer with another man. Agatha quietly nibbled on a corncob and jerked in surprise when someone touched the flower in her back.

It was a nice evening, one she hadn't expected. The wooden Ferris wheel was a little small, and some of the pigs reared up and stampeded Kirk in their pen, but otherwise she enjoyed herself. Looking around after the torches had been lit at all the people together and at peace, she felt a tiny spark of satisfaction and didn't let herself extenguish it.

Sunrise

"...Do you see them?"

"No, sorry, not yet."

Agatha and Kirk stood on another piece of dirt road miles away from Greencrest, the Knight restless, the woman staring directly into the sun like she'd been doing for almost ten minutes. It didn't hurt or blind her; the light and the heat felt good across her skin, like a large furry robe hung near a fire before being put on. She couldn't see her surroundings, instead scrying through the woods with it's help. Too high and all she could see was treetops, but too low and she'd never find the needles in the haystack she sought.

The people of Oldstone had stayed behind locked doors until they'd seen her, at which point they had become more welcoming. Agatha was hard to mistake for anyone else, and she'd fought off an ogre in the town square not four months ago.

The first evidence she had were donkey tracks in the dirt, leading away towards the bend of a river, and following along with them had at last shown her the camp. Kirk must have overestimated the numbers; there were fifteen men ambling around the fire, some working, some sharpening blades, some eating. They looked bitter and hard, like most mercenaries tended to.

"Found them. Two miles east and a little north, I think, upright. They don't quite look settled in... I thought you said there were thirty or so? I count half that." She said in aside to him, slowly turning her vision around the camp and frowning at a bear-like man when he spit in the river.

"That was what I was told. Could be they split to cover ground or guard pillage." Kirk shrugged. "Is that near enough for you to...?"

Almost. I'll need to get a little closer, I think." She sighed and blinked, finally looking away from the sun and towards the forest wall on the side of the road. "I've never liked this part... Join me when you can?" She asked, turning and walking in. Kirk sighed and nodded, leading his horse in after her.

Agatha kept walking, her white hemline getting caught on sticks and brambles, but she let it tear loose and made her way in. It wasn't meant to look nice all the time, just distract the eye and confuse her shape when she moved. She had a closet full of them. Once within range she raised her head and kept the image of the camp in her mind, willing herself to move and be free-

Her body turned to sunlight and was gone like dandelion on the wind; Kirk kicked a root and looked around before he sighed again and headed to meet her afterward. She reappeared 180 feet away, next to the river all at once, out of thin air; before they'd done more than jump she'd shoved the man she'd spotted into the water before looking around and planting her sword in front of her. The blade was bigger than she was and it gleamed like a mirror.

"...Hello." She started, stilted. "I know who you are and I know what you've done. The dead you've left in your wake cry out, and they're owed justice at the least." She continued, looking around with readiness in the set of her shoulders and grip.

"What have we done?" Asked one, eight around drawing bows and knocking arrows. The others had their weapons in their hands, but were waiting to maul her to death.

"I had friends in Bluestone, and in Fox's Quarry. You killed them like dogs in the street for sport. If you were just bandits and brigands I'd have let you live, but you're a plague, and-" she went on, bracing her sword in time for the bows to loose. Her eyes widened as her form once again became something like rolling motes of sunlight. She didn't waste any time, racing over in a flash before she became physical again, her blade already swinging out-

She'd set herself in place, and she turned as she swung, her sword long and heavy enough to carve two men in half. They weren't prepared, and she didn't blame them. If she wasn't as strong as she was, she would've dragged the thing in the dirt behind her and struggled to poke people with the pommel. Instead she hefted it back up and spun before swinging low and chopping off a man at the knees. When she arose, four arrows hit her in the upper back, two of them punching through and going into her lung. She hissed before whipping around and charging the archers down, or at least trying to before she hit the swords and axes of her enemies.

The arrows had hurt, but they didn't anymore. Her blood was like sap, and it didn't much run. After breaking a guard and then cleaving another enemy in half she'd raised her sword to strike before it lit up, bright like a sunrise, burning with sudden heat. She accidentally set a tent on fire from contact with straw, but otherwise was able to keep killing her way through them. As long as she was attacking, she was unstoppable; her defense was hit or miss, and in the case of a few axes, it was a hit. The swords had more trouble with her armor, but by dint of it's nature she took chops in her sides and arms as a matter of course.

Agatha didn't smile because she didn't enjoy this, or so she told herself. This was for her dead friends. She knew those families to speak to. She'd been in their houses. If she slipped up and they knew she was nearby instead of there she usually was allowed a bed for the night. And they'd died for nothing.

The last one was holding his sword and his shield up, she met his eyes and briefly hesitated before he ran at her and she ran him through. It was messy, but she'd gotten good enough at to make it work.
Sliding her glowing blade from the wounds with a hiss of smoke, she extinguished it before looking around and then down at the dead man.

When Kirk arrived she'd dragged the bodies in a row and healed her wounds after cleaning her sword off. Her white was mostly head to toe red, and she glumly waved at his silent stare. He dismounted and she rose before shrugging and looking over at something, pursing her lips.

"...Could you put out that campfire? Sorry, I'd really rather not go near it." She said apologetically. He blinked and then laughed before looking for canteens to empty, while she smiled modestly.