[Training] [se]who we are in our heart of hearts

When the playing ends, she finds herself sitting, back in fox form, illusions drifting away on the light breeze. Both ears swivel towards the Flood, carefully listening to what he reveals and how he says it. There’s a moment of consideration before she shifts back to herself, sitting cross-legged on the ground. “You’re not terrible,” she begins slowly, with a shake of her head and a sad corner-of-her-mouth smile. “You just aren’t responsible for a whole group of people. An entire race. Hiding isn’t an option for me, even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.” Her mouth hardens into a tight line momentarily. “I don’t want a war, you know that, but I do want to see this end and help bring it to a close.” Another sad smile, as she thinks of a specific, curly-haired head. “I’d give my spot to someone else… they’d be able to rebuild the world afterwards. Make it beautiful. Peaceful.” Then she shrugs, and even laughs. “I can permanently die in only three ways, and two of those will never happen. Maybe that’s arrogant to say, but.. Put that on top of everything else and even though I’m tired of losing everyone too, tired of running around like a chicken with its head cut off, tired of fighting assholes and bullies… I have to.” And she's always done what she has to do. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm