;; @makesluck -- cont.
All things must come to an end, this he knows. Arno is unsure of where he had placed his hopes for this makeshift partnership but he knows for certain he never wished for it to end like this. And yet here they are, staring back at one another, each taking out his own weapon. Dread hangs heavy in the air, Arno can feel it. This may end with no casualties, perhaps one, or maybe both may fall -- however such an end comes about will be painful, nonetheless.
The Assassin reaches with his right hand and grips the hilt of his rapier with a firm grasp, although he is hesitant in removing it from its sheath. He looks to Shay; his strong brow is furrowed in a stern expression, although his eyes remain questioning and unconfident.
Arno swallows and he can feel himself gritting his teeth until his jaw hurts. He takes a deep breath, attempting to convince himself into a calm. Finally, he speaks, his words austere yet almost pleading in nature:
“ -- There is still time.
You have a choice. ”
