“oh, mitama!” eir gives the poet a wave, sitting idly inside her cot. she regrets the action almost immediately; her hand falls back into her lap. her allegiance to the golden deer— for what it was worth, as an ashen wolf— was purely out of her intention to rectify her misdeeds during their time in the sealed forest. if there was some value to be gained of joining this mock battle; if it would, perhaps, redeem her in their eyes, she was glad to have put in the time for it. even if the victory at end was not grasped by herself, personally. she decides not to dwell on that; instead, eir starts the conversation with acknowledgement of mitama’s own victories. “i heard you defeated alfonse. congratulations.”
the princess understood that the mage had her fair understanding of magic as a skill— indeed, she put it into incredible use, on occasions which has, more than once, saved her life. still, her tenacity against prince alfonse— a man who had, quite literally, aided her in putting an end to death herself, was rather formidable. but it brings the thought of prince dimitri back to her mind, and eir frowns.
“in the end, i wasn’t... i couldn’t defeat him. dimitri.” eir’s gaze stay fixed on her hands, quiet. perhaps, if she had tried a little more... she would not have been so easily defeated. although she does not regret losing to prince dimitri, in particular, eir does regret the fact she could not aid the golden deer in it’s final stretch. the now-sealed gap in her chest was proof she could not do enough. eir shakes her head, meeting mitama’s eyes. “... but i hope i did not disappoint you, nor claude.”
Having not seen her since shortly after their forest venture, Mitama is surprised to see Eir so eagerly calling out to her. Surprised, but not displeased. Mitama smiles and gives a quick bow as she approaches the other. She looks, quite bluntly, banged up, and Mitama can guess by her claimed cot that her final fight did not go as planned. A shame.
“I did.” Ah, yes. Alfonse and her were from the same realm, correct? So much to keep track of... “Admittedly it was much easier than I anticipated. Perhaps I should forsake healing entirely and become a frontline combatant? Seems I have my father’s knack for it.”
A jest, mostly. The effort of being at the front of the fray is more than Mitama is willing to deal with, and she is far more content helping others than ending their lives.
It is the name of Eir’s challenger that catches Mitama’s attention again. She laughs, mirth missing as she instead ponders the thread. “Wyvern on the loose / rampaging across the field / His wings should be clipped...” Eir looks no where near as beaten as Claude does, however, and Mitama can relax a touch. “Such devastation for a mock exercise...you would think their Archbishop was preparing for something.” Now there was a thought. Mitama would have to spare that a ponder later.
Her concern for now is in the moment, especially after Eir’s statement. Mitama blinks, staring at Eir in open surprise. “Disappoint me?” Had she... “If I speak in all honesty, I held no expectations for you at all. You are my classmate, not my ward.” And yet...the sentiment is far more familiar than Mitama is comfortable with.
The shrine maiden takes a seat next to the wolf and sighs. “You fought to your greatest ability. None can ask for more than that. And should Claude express anything dissimilar to my own thoughts, he is a hypocrite and a fool. After all, his loss to the Wyvern was far more severe than your own. Have you seen his face?” Mitama looks to Eir and smiles. “Grotesque. Unfortunate, really. He admittedly had a charm about it before.”
It feels...inadequate, but Mitama is not used to comforting anyone with whom she did not share a long and battle-filled history. She hesitates, but reaches over to pat Eir’s hand. “Loss or not, we won the mock war. And you are as much a part of that as myself. You did well.”
