Annie knows she's awake because it's as much a hell outside as it was trapped within her own subconscious. Still it's numb. She's here, but barely. Her body had never felt so weak, never had she not been alert and cautious ... she knows what she needs to do, as a warrior, yet she's dragging along without much reasoning. Ahe wants to go home, that she knows. But, she's also tired. Unable to ignore how each step felt heavier then the last. If they had the luxury she's sure she might just go back to sleep. Then again, the thought of returning to an endless slumber kept her awake. Maybe it always would.
The end is fast approaching, but she can't find the will to care. She never had much anyway.
At his approach, Annie barely lifts her head ... when had he arrived? How long was he standing there? She can't recall. It should have surprised her, and yet, there's nothing in her that recoils, doesn't jump at the shock she should have felt. Armin, huh. The early memories of him are less vibrant to her in comparison to the familiarity of the voice she'd become accustomed to over the years. Darkness ... and then, his voice. A cruel irony in it's own way. The greatest mistake she'd made was not killing him, time and time again. Yet, she clung to those visits like a lifeline.
“ You don't need to talk to me anymore. ” When she finally speaks, it's matter of fact. There's no ill-will towards him, barely any left for most of them. No. She doesn't really care what happens anymore; but, she'll do what is needed of her, like she always had done before. And, if this shitty world allowed it, maybe she would see her father again.
Gaze flickers towards him briefly before staring off into the distance, never setting her sights on anything inparticular. “ Though I suppose even you wouldn't have known I'd be able to hear you. Otherwise, it's not very smart of you to talk so openly to the enemy. ”
@witswords ➼ starter call.
