Her metal arm truly looked like it functioned on magic - but he knew better than to stare. He could tell she was agile and quick, and he couldn't help but be reminded of someone else he knew. In that light, it made sense that she'd be a fighter - but that thought only lingers for second. It didn't help anyone to fixate on bittersweet memories.

Guts finds himself comfortable enough to emerge from his sheets and sit on the edge of the bed. Their furniture looked comically small in comparison once he actually stretched his legs onto the floor.

"That's true. Feels a little less strange when all you gotta do is bash a table. The training sessions ain't bad either - even if none of the machines make much sense to me."