SENA When Sena had first heard that Chrom had accepted another person into the army Sena hadn't much cared. She liked to think that she'd never much cared for people but that was a lie. It was a learned feeling, an expression that came from time, experience and pain. It came from the gaping wounds left when people you were attached to were ripped away from you with violent intent and little warning. It came from everyday life in the future mankind had suffered after Grima's return. With this lack of caring Sena had, at first, decided against introducing herself. Though she didn't mind having others around (the more they had the better their chances were, she reasoned) she hadn't returned to the past simply to make friends - or to make friends at all. She wanted to stop the terrible future mankind was headed for and that was it. If she needed to know the person they'd freshly recruited she could become acquainted with them as partners on the battlefield. Sena's secluded attitude changed, however, when she found out just who their new recruit was. Not a stranger of the past she had no business with, nor a new friend to be ripped from her arms. It was, much to her shock, a familiar face. While Sena wasn't sure if this shock stemmed more from the fact that she'd been fortunate enough to meet up with another of the future children or from the thought that Inigo was still alive. After all, crossing through time was not a gentle journey, and the world it surrounded them in was an unfamiliar one. Though danger wasn't in shadows all around them at all times what did prove threatening was sometimes a shroud of mystery. Different times meant different circumstances, and when Sena thought about the toll of arriving this far into the past she regretted to think that some of the other children of the future may or may not still have been roaming about. While it was quite fortunate that they had met up with an Inigo that was alive and breathing, it soon became apparent that his situation was nothing short of tragic. Unlike herself and Owain, who had apparently met up with the group even before Sena herself had, Inigo's family in this version of the past was in shambles. Rather than being able to see both parents again alive and well, as happy as could be when the fact that they were in the midst of a war was considered, he had no such luck. Even here in the past his father was dead, killed by enemy soldiers and falsely labeled as a coward, never to clear his name. It was terribly, truly, and Sena felt for him. But she hadn't said a word. The situation was complicated to say the least, and with no father to speak of Inigo hadn't revealed his identity to anyone, least of all Olivia. So Sena played along, pretending not to know him so closely, lest she make things more complicated for the blue haired mercenary than they already were. Aside from that, she wished to give him space. Space to grieve, space to think. Virion's untimely death here in the past was surely a lot to take in. Taking a breath and shifting from one anxious foot to the other Sena stared at the forest she'd just seen Inigo disappear into. He couldn't have gotten to far and she intended to follow him. In the cover of evening with most of the army recovering from a recent battle Sena doubted anyone would notice the two sneaking away from camp. Even if they did Sena thought it unlikely that they'd connect the disappearance of their newest, most philanthropic recruit and one of their most stoic. Sena wandered off quite often in the evenings anyways. This time though she wasn't simply wandering idly. She had purpose for leaving, and it was very much wrapped up with Inigo. Finally, after a few days of hesitation and contemplation, Sena had decided to confront him. They'd not seen each other for years (at least to Sena it had been a year or so, though she had no idea how long Inigo had been here - time travel truly was tricky business) and yet she'd spent the last little while of their reunion completely ignoring him. She thought it best to break the silence, as uncomfortable as she was with the art of breaking the ice. A few seconds later and Sena had wandered off into the thicket of trees Inigo had wandered off into, hands idly running along the thick coating of bark along the proud plants. It was a simple pleasure, but with little more life than bugs and the most hardened of warriors inhabiting the future it was one Sena had come to rather appreciate. "Hey." Forcing herself to call out without hesitating once she'd managed to catch up to the mercenary whose tracks she had been following Sena found her voice coming out a little more roughly than she'd meant it to. While she mad no apology for this she was quick to adjust her tone, words softening with her eyes as she drew Inigo's attention. "Long time no see, huh stranger?" OLIVIA Anxious hands wringing together as uncomfortable toes tapped at the ground Olivia found her teeth idly chewing at her bottom lip as she stared at the sprouting grass beneath her feet. Even such weeds managed to grow mighty in these desperate times and yet, in her own mind, Olivia hadn't improved a bit. Though she'd danced all her life she was hardly very good (little more than average would be generous in her own opinion) and though she'd been working with the Ylissean army since the war in Plegia she still felt as if she hadn't grown at all. Some days she felt entirely useless to the army and couldn't help but wonder why they kept her around at all. After all, with warriors as strong as Frederick, Sully, Stahl, Chrom himself and a full roster of others Olivia could hardly see why they even kept her around at all. After all, she couldn't even come close to comparing with those others... With a suddenly determined frown and a shake of her head Olivia forced herself to push those thoughts into the back of her mind. Though he couldn't see it for the life of her, what Olivia lacked in physical strength she often managed to make up for in mental fortitude. For when she felt a useless bother (a feeling that was rather strong when she'd nearly risked their newest recruits life in the battle that had taken place earlier that day) the dancer worked harder to be worthy of the trust put in her. Giving up was a easy option, one always open to her, but it was never one that tempted the dedicated young woman. She wanted to help, and as down on herself as she could get she was determined to do everything she could to do so. With a deep breath Olivia let her muscles relax, clearing her mind of all of her worries, her insecurities, her raging thoughts. She focused her energy into what she needed to think about; her balance, her poise, the moves and the melody. Though there was no song to be sung, no music to be played, she could neve forget the moves to this particular dance. 'The Dance of the Swan Princess' had been a favourite of hers since childhood, one she'd always worked to perform. If she could master that then surely she would become graceful enough to be a dancer in the army of Ylisse, one who could truly bring inspiration to weary and bogged down troops. One who could really help and repay the debts she owed, the favor she had been shown. With that determination in mind Olivia let her feet began to carry her, toes twirling her about as her arms moved in mesmerizing and graceful patterns above her head, leaving the billowing fabric of her elegantly made outfit to form designs and shapes of pure beauty. In moments what had been the form of a deflated, anxious girl who seemed almost to be trying to collapse in upon herself had unfurled, like the most delicate of flowers, and had formed the silhouette of a beautiful, talented woman, one who continued to move, stretch, hop and twirl according to routine with such grace that even the most uncultured of men would surely be left slack-jawed in wonder. Yes, Olivia boasted nothing but words of how average she was, but when others commented on her dancing their grandiose praise was never any less than deserved. Though she never was able to see it Olivia's dancing was magnificent, an art unto itself. It was something she deserved to be proud of, and surely something others found to be an insurmountable joy. Caught up in the passion she helf for her art Olivia took some time to notice the presence of another person. eyes closed and focus centered she had been completely lost in her own world. And, when the sudden crunch of a particularly dry patch of greenery snapped her from that world Olivia was quite shocked. With a squeak and a flail all of the grace she had been exhibiting seconds ago seemed to all but disappear, flying out the window as her foot slipped under her and sent her crashing onto her backside. "I-I'm so sorry!" Quick to blame herself as always Olivia gave her apologies rather feverently, bowing her head as a blush spread to her cheeks. Just how long had she been watched? With how focused she was Olivia was sure she looked a complete fool. The more she thought about it the darker her blush became and it wasn't long before the tips of her ears to the end of her nose had lit up in a violent crimson shade that would be much better fitting of a tomato than a person. "I-I didn't mean to... I... Um, I apologize. Did you need me for something?" Embarrassment clear in the pitch of her wavering voice Olivia slowly pulled herself to her feet, wiping the dirt from her clothes. She was so humiliated, in fact, that she couldn't even meet the eye of the cavalier who'd spotted her. Instead she found her gaze finding ground once more. Of all the people who'd caught her as well, it, of course, had to be Piers. How embarrassing! AONE "Ouch! Be careful!" Aone chided, voice a hiss as the lithe fingers of her husband continued to work at her exposed back, rubbing a thick mixture of a velnerality and a few medical herbs into the exposed wounds on her back. With gashes such as these, ones wide enough to leave the shirt she'd been wearing until moments ago bloodstained and in desperate need of stitching Aone really should have sought out a healer hours ago to have them patch her up. Stubborn as ever, though, the thief was completely unwilling to do so, leading to the situation at hand. The way she saw it, staves all had limited uses and she didn't want to waste them if she didn't have to. If she wasn't on the brink of death and it wasn't about to come to her in a wave of enemies she had no interest in being healed. While the clerics and monks of the group tended to chide her for this view, Libra especially who was one of the only ones who still bothered attempting to reason with her. Yes, she knew it could get infected and it could become serious, but it had never happened before. Aone had survived much worse than a few scratches before and she'd be damned if she let something as trifling as this do her in. With a sigh the bluette let her chin slump back into her crossed arms, the pillow supporting them sinking a little as the extra weight pressed into it. Not that it could sink very far, seeing as it was pretty much completely flat by now. Though they had many provisions here in the Ylissean army, important things such as food, clothing and shelter so some extent or another, they weren't exactly rolling in luxury. The drafty tents and low bedrolls could attest to that. Still, Aone didn't complain too much. She'd slept in worse places, and poorer conditions were sometimes more comfortable to her, familiarity giving her a sense of ease. When she and Henry had been invited to stay as guests at the castle of Ylisse's capital as honored guests she'd nearly become an insomniac, nights on the plushest bed money could buy leaving her rather sleep deprived. The next few minutes passed in what was mostly silence, broken by the occasional wince from Aone as Henry grazed over a particularly sensitive spot that sent a particularly sharp shock of pain down her spine. Otherwise though Aone mostly tried to enjoy the moment. The cool of the medicine, the feeling of Henry's hands on her skin... it wasn't often that they got to enjoy silent moments like this in the midst of all the chaos around them. Usually if they weren't fighting they were marching, and if not marching they were patching, planning, preparing. There was no end to all the work that needed to be done. Aone liked to think herself rather resilient, with enough energy to persevere through all of this, but having a respite from all the hustle and bustle was always nice too. Of course the silence didn't last too long. With silence always came a wandering mind, and with the current events that had been unfolding before them all a wandering mind meant lots of questions for Aone. Especially concerning one of the newest members of their army. Squirming a little as the thoughts began to plague her Aone shifted, twisting so she could look up at her husband and meet his ever-cheerful gaze. She wore the slightest of frowns but the crease of her brow made her look more perplexed if anything than angry. After a moment of trying to collect her webbed thoughts into a proper sentence Aone let her eyes lock with Henry's before her lips parted to unleash her contemplations. "It's... odd to have Sena here isn't it?" Resting her head on her palm Aone supported herself so she could continue to look at Henry, though she would admit that the tilt was rather unpleasant on her back, contracting the cuts that ran so deeply into her skin in a way Mirabelle would surely hit her for, was she here. When Aone said that having their apparent future daughter there with them was 'odd' she didn't mean it in a bad way. She seldom did when she called something odd - to see how she felt about things that most considered a bit off one needed only to look at her husband. Still, it was strange to meet their grown child before she was even born in this world. And even stranger was that Aone couldn't bring herself to refute the shorter girl's claims. Usually a skeptic she would have passed Sena off as a nut weeks ago and suggested she be left for the wolves. However there was a connection and it was as undeniable as it was unplacable. Aone had no idea from whence it came nor what the feeling was exactly, but it was deep-rooted, planted in the base of her gut. She knew they were connected somehow. She could feel it. Sena's undeniable resemblance to Henry didn't ease that feeling any either.