". . . Date?" Amaris' voice didn't seem to sound too impressed as she pushed herself up to her feet, waving off his hand. She was independent, and would prove so every chance she got now that she was finally out of that hell hole. Still, she wasn't going to wander about alone; she didn't even know how long she had been in there. How in the world was she going to know where she was supposed to head to? Again, take every moment you can to be independent . . . Or so she kept trying to remind herself.
She raised an eyebrow when Dante started tossing the small pouch of gold he had stolen. There was definitely something up with this fool all right. Without another thought, she knew she was going to have to be a lot more careful around him than she had anticipated. Her free hand came to rest against her forehead, the tip of her blade dug into the ground as she leaned upon with her other hand.
". . . Fuck," she muttered to herself, keeping in check that she didn't say it loud enough for him to hear."Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Amaris bantered on at herself before turning her back to him. When in the living hell did he think of this as a date? What was the word, anyhow? Was there a significance to it? It was vaguely familiar, she knew what it meant. But was never on one before. Then she started to wonder if this was how something like this would go every time someone declared a date. To her -- it sounded like a war.
War . . . She could handle that. A few dead bodies, walk away with a few cuts and scratches. What more could a 'date' do to her? Hm . . . Was it even like that? Damn, she didn't know. "Fine . . ." she spoke out. "We'll finish this . . . Date thing, as you call it. And then I need to find somewhere that'll take me to the cursed man in the sky." She wouldn't say who, she hated the name with a deep seeded passion. Evidently, she wanted him dead. Yet that would have to wait.
