[ There is no response when Lana calls his name. There is nothing but the crackling of the burning trees, the faint snap of twigs and crinkling of leaves underneath Lana's feet if she continues to walk. Aside from the flames flickering, there is stillness -- an uneasy feeling, given that there was just a sign of human activity mere moments before. One thing is for certain: at this moment, Lana is alone.
... ... ...
...At least, she is for a couple of minutes. After what may have felt like an eternity, there is some movement in the distance. A tall, shadowy figure emerges, wielding a large weapon in its hands. Could it be another bandit? Fortunately for Lana, it's not. As the figure steps forward, the illumination from the flames will show that it is none other than one (1) Dedue Molinaro. See, Lana, there's nothing to worry about! He's perfectly fine!
...Or is he? The bloodstains on his face and uniform suggest otherwise, but the blood dripping from the bit of his axe may imply a different story. ]
...I have returned.
[ But he doesn't approach her any further, standing a good distance away. He expects her to shun him, to scream at him to stay away from her, for he's a monster; if she didn't see him as how others view him -- his country, his culture, his people -- before, then she certainly would now, he thinks. How could he dare approach her now with blood on his hands -- quite literally, for that matter. ]
ohoho, you have fallen into my trap
...
...
...
...At least, she is for a couple of minutes. After what may have felt like an eternity, there is some movement in the distance. A tall, shadowy figure emerges, wielding a large weapon in its hands. Could it be another bandit? Fortunately for Lana, it's not. As the figure steps forward, the illumination from the flames will show that it is none other than one (1) Dedue Molinaro. See, Lana, there's nothing to worry about! He's perfectly fine!
...Or is he? The bloodstains on his face and uniform suggest otherwise, but the blood dripping from the bit of his axe may imply a different story. ]
...I have returned.
[ But he doesn't approach her any further, standing a good distance away. He expects her to shun him, to scream at him to stay away from her, for he's a monster; if she didn't see him as how others view him -- his country, his culture, his people -- before, then she certainly would now, he thinks. How could he dare approach her now with blood on his hands -- quite literally, for that matter. ]