Slanting her eyes at him for a moment, she abruptly lets out an airy and very feminine laugh.
"Is that what I like about you? Your practicality?"
That isn't exactly how she would've thought of it.
Somehow it strikes her as both very practical -- even a wandering priest has the right to protect himself, and this one has proven to her that he knows the first rule of combat -- and unimaginably inconvenient. His arms have obviously gotten used to it, but she's patted the cloth covering that cross and she's heard the sound it makes when he puts it down: it's metal.
That thing is heavy. But not only does he effortlessly lift and carry it, but not even a couple of city blocks with it at his back has winded him. She's as impressed by it as she is surprised.
From here she can clearly see the hospital building rising above the others around it, and she stretches her arms over her head as she walks, letting her hands clasp behind her head.
"You must really like the metaphor," she goes on, smiling even though her eyebrows knit in a mild kind of skepticism. "How long has that cross been your constant companion?"
It's not just the easy lifting and carrying that makes her think he's had a long time to practice. There's also the fact that he seems a lot more at home with a gun in each hand than you'd think a priest should.
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"Is that what I like about you? Your practicality?"
That isn't exactly how she would've thought of it.
Somehow it strikes her as both very practical -- even a wandering priest has the right to protect himself, and this one has proven to her that he knows the first rule of combat -- and unimaginably inconvenient. His arms have obviously gotten used to it, but she's patted the cloth covering that cross and she's heard the sound it makes when he puts it down: it's metal.
That thing is heavy. But not only does he effortlessly lift and carry it, but not even a couple of city blocks with it at his back has winded him. She's as impressed by it as she is surprised.
From here she can clearly see the hospital building rising above the others around it, and she stretches her arms over her head as she walks, letting her hands clasp behind her head.
"You must really like the metaphor," she goes on, smiling even though her eyebrows knit in a mild kind of skepticism. "How long has that cross been your constant companion?"
It's not just the easy lifting and carrying that makes her think he's had a long time to practice. There's also the fact that he seems a lot more at home with a gun in each hand than you'd think a priest should.