Subterfuge was never Bessie's strong suit so, when the subject of her impending and inevitable death came up and she wanted to smile it off, her expression was instead twisted and pained. Nevertheless, she tried to play it off. To pretend as if nothing was wrong.
"Haha, what do you mean? I mean… we all die, yeah, and I get into lots of dangerous situations and am not the strongest so I might die sooner rather than later, but you shouldn't joke about that…"
The words felt like sand in her mouth and she couldn't help but trail off. Denial always worked best, but it usually worked best for *her*. Lying to herself was easy, but others… Her thoughts were cut off by the pungent scent of sulphur and Crataeis' wave-like voice.
"Are you telling Us that We're wrong? Are you suggesting that you're more than just some ordinary minotaur-blooded halfbreed?"
"W-well."
No.
