Lone Myrmidon

             There’s a playful smirk on ruby lips as she speaks, one sea-green brow arched in false offense. Oh, she knows she doesn’t have to stand so close to him - but where was the fun in that?

             Nevertheless, she takes a step back. Best not to annoy someone who could kill her in less than a second if he so wished.

His brow raises when she speaks, curiosity written on his features. Survival? Such a simple thing, yet it made sense. He was a gift from one of the Khans to the Shepherds, but he’s only known to fight to survive. He  would’ve made the same decision she had if in her position. That’s how Lon’qu is.

     “ C’mon, am I really that stinky? ” she proceeds to  QUIRK  a brow, but regardless, proceeds to saunter closer, unaware of his fear. “ We can do this all day, you know. Just let me heal you, hm? Only takes a few seconds and then I’ll be out of your  HAIR.  ” Vivian spoke reassuringly, tightening her grasp around her staff with renewed determination.

Stinky? No, she didn’t reek but he didn’t need her to be next to him. Not when it was possible for him to heal his own wounds. She comes closer and he steps back once again to keep distance between the two of them. Regardless of how much she wants to help, there’s no way he’ll allow he to touch him.

There would be no risk this time.

“As much as I appreciate your fascination,” Sword is sheathed as he speaks, eyes narrowed as he turns to face the direction that the woman was standing. To make sure she stood where she was and made no attempt at getting closer, his eyes blink and stay sharp as he speaks again.