Lyra squinted her eyes at the wound on Elara's arm. It was a scar that looked new. She suddenly realized what kind of world Elara lived in. It was a world where someone could take a life, but also lived in constant fear of losing their own. Though, Elara did not seem to be afraid at all.
Elara saw what Lyra was looking at. She started to pull down her sleeve with a soft smile, but Lyra stopped her. Lyra grabbed her arm tightly.
"It must have hurt a lot," Lyra whispered. Her fingers softly touched the scar.
Elara laughed. She seemed to think Lyra was very sweet.
"What an odd thing to worry about," she said with amusement. "Not even a moment ago, you pointed a gun at me."
Lyra closed her mouth quickly. She was surprised to hear Elara laugh so purely.
"It didn't hurt." Elara answered quickly. Lyra's brows scrunched up, almost like she was pouting at her words.
"Liar," she protested weakly.
"It's the truth."
