Clara huffed, pretending to busy herself with a rack of scavenged knives they’d found near the back.
She picked one up, testing the balance. It felt clumsy in her grip at first, but determination hardened her features.
"I don’t want to be dead weight," she muttered. "If you’re training, so am I."
Kael watched her with interest as she sliced clumsily at the air. "Not bad. For a rookie."
She glared at him. "Shut up. I’ll get better."
"I don’t doubt it," Kael said, smirk softening for once. He leaned against the bag, crossing his arms. "You’ve already survived this long. That’s more than most."
Clara lowered the knife, hesitating. Then, softly, she admitted, "Back at the office… I always admired you, you know. The way you never cared what anyone thought. Always sarcastic, always… free.
