We may as well try. [And then softly, wistfully, like she's speaking to the middle distance more than anyone in particular.] Enough blood has been spilled to turn these apples red. What fruit will grow from this tainted soil?

[Done with that, Elisabet will actually retreat like she suggested along with the other woman. When the retreat appears to work, she lets her shoulders relax the tense line they'd been keeping.]

Hmm?

[A soft hum at the question before it registers.] Oh, that. I'm a ninja. [She is absolutely not a ninja, but that's what she's been told her entire life and is the easier truth to voice than the actual truth, even to herself.]

That's my natural form, I guess. The one I was born in, anyway. I'm Elisabet Groeneveldt.