We are dropped into the middle of nowhere. Survive.

"I never even had the urge to unsheath them until just now," I say, looking at you with completely black eyes, still under the influence of the memory.

”I’ll take that as a compliment!”

”I don’t like common sense that much. It involves putting out fires.”

It's okay. But I'm still under the influence of the memory and if you are within fifty feet of me, I will likely try to kill you.

This just makes me even angrier. "I'm fine," I try to say, but I can't manage it and say, "No."