She pauses in her adjustment as she hears her falter, listening carefully to the tone of the words, in where to step forward, to where her place was. To step over her bounds, where to not. But as the fall away of her face, she steps closer. Her fingers curling to nudge her chin up with the curl of her knuckle and a light push. To meet her intently in it. To never let the gaze falter, to look at her, to look at all of her.

"War always takes more than we ever thought to give, out of our lives, out of ourselves." Her hand drops, settling to her shoulder. "But where it falls, so we find something new, even in their memory."