Ituha and Kazumasa, Hotspur 1
"I can't say I find our leader to be inspiring of much confidence myself." Kazumasa grumbled under his breath as he caught up with the marching survivors of Hotspur 1, falling in alongside Ituha. He quickly matched his pace with hers, even as he glanced sidelong at the Lieutenant.
Ituha's gaze momentarily averted from the desert sand to Kazumasa. A small smile reaches her lips: It seemed she managed to get through to one person, at least. Perhaps Jace too, but who knew for certain beyond him. Her gaze turns back to the desert sand, as she continues rubbing her left wrist with her right hand's thumb. "He comes from a different world. It is hard to grasp what, or if, he thinks."
He rolled his eyes in the gloom of the night, offering a mild snort of bemusement. He soon looked back to Ituha. "I noticed you have no weapon of self-defense? What Private Carl may no longer make use of, may be of use to you." He quietly slid the Thompson from his left shoulder, and offered the firearm to the woman via the sling.
Ituha shakes her head and makes a motion with her hands. The wind once again blows past them, along with the sound of a wolf panting. "I have my ways, you have yours... I would not know how to use it well, anyway." There was a flicker of regret for the death of Private Carl in her eyes, though, nothing more was offered as she clasped her hands behind her back and kept walking: She was in pleasant company. "So... Your mask. It is very colourful. Misha kept staring at it, confused. What is it?"
"Well, it wouldn't hard to teach you the basics, any other time. Understood though." He quietly shouldered the smg again, finding the weight of it slightly off-putting when added to the rest of his gear, especially since, for such a compact firearm, it weighed more than his rifle. As she asked of his mask, he took a slight breath, and paused, thinking of how to phrase 'I have no goddamn idea', slightly more tactfully. "To be honest, I don't rightly know. Seems it came from my father, who was Japanese. My mother don't know much'bout him, just knew him for a week. Came in a box that only I could open, and turns me into a big, red skinned monster, that some of the immigrant shopkeepers refereed to as an 'Oni' when I showed them the mask." Shrugging, even under the burden of his gear, "Wish I did know more. Even been with the Covenant, and they say they don't know anything'bout it either." He hesistated and then stopped for a moment, pushing a thought aside before asking, "So...who is Misha?"
Though she stopped momentarily, Ituha motioned to keep walking: It's not like Bill would stop moving just for them to have a conversation, nor would the Nazis politely wait before opening fire. Still, her smile went on unabated. "Misha is..." Another momentary hesitation, attempting to find a way to describe such a thing. "... An elemental wolf, of the wind. Something my people would incorrectly call a... Spirit. She protects me, and enables me to use my abilities." She looks at Kazumasa, eye to eye. "Misha is intent on protecting everyone she can. There is great evil within those white men who wear black uniforms decorated in the skulls of those whose only crime was living." Her eyes wander back to the sand, disquieted. "Thank you."
Nodding, he resumed pace. "Elemental Wolf..." He trailed off in thought for a moment, considering her words. "Some of them are. Some of these Nazi scum are evil, right as rain, some of them are. Makes it easy to want to believe that they all are. I think that is what helps some men sleep at night. Thinking the krauts as one, evil thing. Yet," he hesitated, wincing at a memory, "not all of them are. Many are just men, doing what they think is right, without knowing the nightmares they unwittingly assist, but for many, realizing that wounds their soul something fierce."
"Yes. It does." Ituha whispers, almost inaudible. "It is why I stay away from those who laugh at violence and pain, who so easily wield it without remorse... I shudder to think that killing is so easy." Ituha sighs, there was little else she could add. "I hope this war will be ended as soon as possible."
He sighed and shook his head, "The way things are looking right now? With England blockaded, Italy and Germany in league, I hope the war isn't over soon. If it is? That means we lose." His voice gradually growing heavier and more somber as he spoke. He tried not to dwell on it however. "It needs to run at least a year, or a little longer. If Greece can do something about Italy, England will stand a better chance of pushing back against Germany."
"Oh." Ituha says with a bit of bitterness in the tone of her voice. Silence passes between them for a few moments more. "Well... At least we can do
something, about it." Her smile manages to persevere, despite the grim situation presented to her on the world stage. "We
will win. We have to... I will do everything I can to be sure of it. So will Misha."
He smiled slightly, a grim little smile, but with a little bit of heart infused. Her optimism was refreshing, "Well, that's good, as if this was a vacation, I would have to say you picked a terrible time and location for it. I mean, the locals are hostile and violent, the voyage across was exceedingly cramped, and the flight steward has terrible manners."
"At least I can see the stars." Looking up at the sky, her eyes seemed amazed by every little light in the sky. "For everything else, there is time."
He looked up and, grunted softly after a moment, "Hunh." A second later, he spoke something intelligible, "Familiar and alien. I suppose I never thought the sky would look so different." A sky without the constellations he had grown up with, and seen all his life, even in England, he saw the same constellations. Here though, in Egypt, the familiar shapes were gone, replaced with an entirely new starfield to gaze upon. "I wonder what constellations they recognize here are..." He trailed off as they closed in on the Hotspur 2
"Who knows... Good luck." Ituha whispers sweetly as she gets ready for potential trouble.