[When Armin drops free, he hits the ground with a pained groan and a large splatter of mud. Even as he spits to clear it from his mouth he's backing away in a crouch, watching intently.
That weapon, what is it? Something about it sends a shiver up his spine. It feels unnatural to someone as secluded as he's been. He wouldn't like to see what it makes of his own flesh.
Then again, the stranger did just save Armin. Staring might not be the best way to express gratitude.]
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That weapon, what is it? Something about it sends a shiver up his spine. It feels unnatural to someone as secluded as he's been. He wouldn't like to see what it makes of his own flesh.
Then again, the stranger did just save Armin. Staring might not be the best way to express gratitude.]
Thank you, but... What is that?