[ the water feels good against her hands, if only to wash away the sticky, clinging blood. her clothing is already soaked, so she doesn't bother to keep dry, plunging in carefully to her thighs to more easily scrub it all away, the water of the stream running pink as it winds downstream.

she doesn't answer at first. alisaie keeps her focus on cleaning herself up until at last all that remains are a few pale pink stains clinging to her clothing, and she tugs her skirt back down to cover the hastily bandaged wound. save for her slight limp as she steps back out onto dry land, and the tightness in her expression, one might never know she had been injured at all. ]

Prompto.

[ both hands lift to his face, and she tugs him forward and down none too gently, her eyes hard when they find his. ]

I do not want your apologies. Your guilt will only make me feel worse, and beyond that, it will rattle our focus when we need it most. Do you understand me?

[ her voice is as sharp as her eyes, her mouth set in a hard line. ]

You have come far enough to know that this is not your fault. I know you have. If you cannot realize that and pull yourself together, I pledge to the twelve I will smack you upside your fool head until you do.