The recognition makes her flinch, her armor shudders just briefly.
"As were you." Her voice is stern and without scorn, diplomatic. She's passing judgement.
Artoria's eyes drop to the beginnings of some indecipherable ritual. She can't parse it but she doesn't unsheathe her sword. They'd already shared something horrifically intimate, and so a seed of personal responsibility blooms.
"I suppose we're not strangers then, at least in some sense." Her gaze drifts down to the bodies.
"I took his armor because the situation called for it." And because she knows now how it might have looked to this woman:
no subject
"As were you." Her voice is stern and without scorn, diplomatic. She's passing judgement.
Artoria's eyes drop to the beginnings of some indecipherable ritual. She can't parse it but she doesn't unsheathe her sword. They'd already shared something horrifically intimate, and so a seed of personal responsibility blooms.
"I suppose we're not strangers then, at least in some sense." Her gaze drifts down to the bodies.
"I took his armor because the situation called for it." And because she knows now how it might have looked to this woman:
"What are you doing?"