Haha come on, miss! i was having so much fun in the tall grass, some nettles won't kill me!", she laughs, out of breath. Her Handler had made her stop playing and sit down in this pretty little meadow while she fussed over the nettles in her hair and her clothes. She tries to gently push her Handler away, chuckling to herself, being commanded to stay still yet again, frustrating her Handler just a little more. There the Hound sits, on the ground, twitching and mumbling out nonsense, how could she have pushed her Hound this far? It was supposed to be a simple and straightforward affair. Not this. Panicking, she orders her delirious hound to stay still, she's not ready to lose her favorite person tool. "It was meant to be easy, it was meant to be easy" she keeps repeating to herself, pulling large pieces of shrapnel out of her Hound's bodysuit. Weaker now, she just barely makes out a giggle from her Hound "Come on... miss! chase me...". The heat from the raging inferno that was her Hound's mech mere minutes ago can't compare to how hot her Hound's blood feels on her face, blood she so desperately tried to staunch. She tries to keep composed, and barely manages to keep her rebellious tears in check. She hits her breaking point as her Hound's last breath rattles out "Miss? I feel cold....." she can't stay composed, and slumps down, cradling her Hound's face. She failed her job, it was just an easy mission. It was routine, she was meant to keep her safe, and now she is gone She realized she had called her Hound a tool till her last second, hardly fair when she needed her Hound just as much as her Hound needed her, As she is dragged away by paramedics to dispose of the Hound's body, the Handler remains limp, completely catatonic, staring as she is lifted into the mobile transport Staring at the site of the Rebellion's first counter-offensive. Staring at the field where she lost her First and Only Hound.
