Though she nodded, she did pay close attention to what the man was saying. She couldn’t help but relive the first time she had killed someone, although she couldn’t relate to Truth entirely, she understood where he was coming from. As he continued to speak, she wringed her hands together, a nervous habit she developed during her time as a young mercenary. She subconsciously did this as it mimicked the motion of washing her hands, which she did quite often to clean a certain crimson liquid from them. “And I bet what scares you more is the fact you became used to it. It scares you that doing this kind of work no longer effects you. You do it as you would do any normal day to day activity, with routine and without thought... Yeah, at times I find myself thinking as you do.”
She stopped the motions of her hands and quickly slipped them into her jacket pockets. “Sometimes I like to think about what my life would have been like if I never was forced into this lifestyle. I guess you could say I’m envious to an extent.” She chucked and pulled out two cigarettes from her pocket, and as she offered the man one she lit hers and stuck it to her lip. “But hey, if I didn’t do this, I wouldn’t have met certain people, so I guess that’s a bright side right?”