—ᴀᴛʜᴇɪᴀ ʟᴇᴇɢ

"Some stitches are torn. i can do it myself. You don’t need to bother"

You should learn to shoot, Clara’s voice echoed in his ears. It’s getting more and more violent out there and that brain of yours is no match for a bullet …

           ❝  Do you give lessons ? ❞

   Usually, she doesn't. She's not very patient,    but these days most people are spread thin.    The least she can do is help out where it's    needed. 

   The blonde looks out of place, not in the    sense that she doesn't belong, but that she    doesn't quite know where she is. It isn't her    job to show people around, but Atheia isn't    busy and she isn't needed anywhere else.

   She finds him in the training area, a new    face, or at least one she doesn't recognize.    And he's looking at her gun.