"Something I’m good at…!“ Maybe he hears her over the roar and searing heat of the dragon now combating the Empire’s might. She talks easier, it fills the gaping silence and horror in her head at the sight. Claude’s wheels are spinning, some thoughts behind his head, but the boy always seems to look and act as if he knows something no one does. Smartest, slyest in the room. She’s started to move, shortsword in one hand and whip in the other. She doesn’t think much about it, evasion is instinct now.
“But that means you, too!” And with a crack of her whip, it coils itself around her House Leader’s waist and yanks him back from the clash of fire and steel. “Stay close with me, yeah? We can reconvene with the rest of the class, but I’d rather not do that without our leader, get me?”
Keeping Claude close by and safe would ensure both their safeties, and that was all the more appealing to her by the minute as the dragon ahead of them plows through troops and battles aside demonic beasts. It isn’t a fight she feels like either of them would come out of should they try to aid in anything but gathering allies and escaping at this point. It’s become a battle of monsters and gods.
“Just stay by me,” Tharia’s voice still feels dwarfed, quiet. “I’ll watch your back." // @faylnots
he trusts her , he thinks / anywhere else that would have been shocking , down to the core of a golden heart / anytime else he would have doubted the validity of the thought , would have figured no , a moment of slippage -------- nothing more , nothing less. his was a heart that trusted no one , nowhere , at no time. even with tharia , he was not so easy to speak his true feelings , or thoughts ; the world inside him was shut even to her , for now. but that thought came all the same , roaring inside him like the blood did in his ears , pounding incessantly : he trusts her. here , and now , even as she yanks him backwards / even as he’s forced to turn his attention from the beat of wings above.
claude’s vision swims for a second , body closing in -- closer -- to tharia’s own. the fingers wrapped around the center of his bow tighten. he feels he ought to be used to this , by now , months of preparation at the academy tempering his skills & sharpening new ones . . . but with all that’s going on , hesitation sinks its claws into him. it is tharia that jerks him from repose. ❛ i can cover you , ❜ he says , straightening. in the distance there are a few imperial soldiers. three , in adrestian blood - red.
long fingers notch an arrow into his bow , drawing it back , loosening it then into the chest of one of the oncoming soldiers. he doesn’t have time to think about the dragon / what it might mean , who it might be , even if he has theories , even if it interests him now far more than what edelgard’s desires might lead to. tharia is here. he does not want to watch her die. ❛ watch my back , and i’ll watch yours. ❜