It had been Kalos who encouraged the trip. Apparently, he was concerned for and in a rare show – words were said.

Moping.

Avoiding.

More. But she was trying to forgive him and forget.

She was not sure if the fact that it ended up being a good suggestion would help or hurt that progress. When she was no longer engaged in a fight … she might be able to figure it out.

Dancing out of the path of a fist aimed for her face she considered pulling one of her knives. She hadn’t yet.

Ah- no. It looked like he had brought one. Granted, from the way he held the object, it wasn’t for her. But that would be remedied. A snag, a squeeze, a cry of pain and the knife dropped into her hand.

It was a clunky thing, lacking the slick elegance of her throwing knives. But a test of the edge provided it sharp enough.

He went down, clutching at his belly.

Twist skipped backward a blade (not hers) sliced at her.

Unlike her, he hadn’t been alone.

Well.

Soon enough she wouldn’t be either.

The thought brought a smile to her face as her dark eyes lifted to the owner of the not-hers-knife.

It said a great deal about them that they did not give up at seeing it.