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I WROTE A THING REALLY QUICKLY BECAUSE I HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM HELP.

"In your last moments, feel free to reflect upon the poor decisions you have made, such as crossing House Casimir." Those were the last words Rose Lombardo heard from the man stepping away from her. There was no picking herself back up off the floor--she had already tried and fallen once before to give that another try. She layed there, curled up on top of the cold cobblestone that was the alley she had just fought in. Gods, she fucking hated herself right now, but nowhere near as much as she hated Sigmund--the head of House Casimir. She hadn't moved since the man in violet left. Night was soon approaching, and instead of being at home with Luis and the others--where she belonged--, Rose was bleeding out in this gods forsaken alleway like a dying animal. One hand firmly gripped onto her stomach, her flamed gauntlets becoming soaked with her own blood. Her right eye had been shut for the longest time now. The woman was fairly certain that she was going to go blind, what with the shards of her monocle currently inside her eye and the blood that was drying on her face. Her world was nothing but searing pain and anger. She closed her left eye, taking in a rather pained breath. In the moment that followed, Rose was greeted with her pet hippo, right in her face. "...Shit," the woman hissed, turning her head away from Mitt. "Don't ffffuckin' scare me like that, you asshole..." In response, the tiny hippo calf nudges her with his head, almost as if the animal was telling her to get up. Even with the gentle nudges of encouragement, she continued to lay there. Within several minutes, she saw that her helmet was soon pushed into her field of vision. "... You're really... fuckin' tryin' to make sure I get up off my ass, aren't you?" Rose didn't want to talk much, considering how much it hurt her to do so. Her good eye trails over towards Mitt. She couldn't believe what she was looking at. Her pet was going as far as to fetch her the things that she had dropped in the alley--to the best of his ability, anyway. She stared at the hippo hobbling with the handle of her rapier in his mouth. He could barely carry it due to his size, but he managed to make it over to her, by a miracle. The sound of a metal clang meets her ears as the weapon was dropped in front of her. Sitting herself up with a cry in pain, Rose reaches for the helmet and puts it on. Her hands feel around for the shattered remnants of her monocle, pocketing it. "Godsdammit, Mitt. Fine... I'm gettin' up," she whispers. Staggering up onto her feet proved to be a challenge, but she pulls herself up using the barrels and crates near her for support with one hand still covering her bleeding stomach. Her clothes were soaked with her blood, but she was thankful that her choice in dark red fabric covered it up to an extent. She bends down, grabbing her pistol to holster it on her side. Rose then grabs her rapier, gripping it tightly in her hands. Dragging her feet along the ground, she breathes in deeply. The walk from here to Queensdale would be a long one, but she'd make it, or die trying. "C'mon, little guy... We're goin' home... I ain't gonna fuckin' die today. I ain't gonna fuckin' die today..."

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