[Perhaps Bertolt should invest in tailoring. Sasha can sew. Maybe she can take a few of his hems down.
That's a question she expected, yet it's one Sasha hasn't quite prepared herself to answer. It feels just like yesterday that she was about to be squeezed to death by a monster (and technically, it was -- one minute there, next minute here.) Last thing she remembers is running down the path behind the little girl, but the last thing she truly saw was frightening enough to stick harder than anything else.]
The face of a Titan. [There's a wry look on her face, the kind all the soldiers at home seem to have plastered on their faces when they've come so close to being dead but by the grace of whatever force. Something like a smile of relief, yet the frown of knowing their existence is limited.] Before I poked his eye out.
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That's a question she expected, yet it's one Sasha hasn't quite prepared herself to answer. It feels just like yesterday that she was about to be squeezed to death by a monster (and technically, it was -- one minute there, next minute here.) Last thing she remembers is running down the path behind the little girl, but the last thing she truly saw was frightening enough to stick harder than anything else.]
The face of a Titan. [There's a wry look on her face, the kind all the soldiers at home seem to have plastered on their faces when they've come so close to being dead but by the grace of whatever force. Something like a smile of relief, yet the frown of knowing their existence is limited.] Before I poked his eye out.