Guts has a hard time looking back at her, frozen for a moment in his own thoughts. Whatever they were, they didn't ease the deep misery on his face.

"This was reckless. I shouldn't have thrust this on you so suddenly."

He would have never said any such thing two years ago - it was a complete contradiction given his fighting style - but the thought of her being hurt because of him... It wasn't just upsetting. It felt monstrous.

No, he'd been too naive. Stupid. Saturday was her own person, he knew that, but the creature wasn't a thing made of reason. Of course it would take a special glee in getting its fangs into her. It was a barely caged mess of emotions - and some part of him... wanted...

He crosses his arms as he turns his back to her, hiding the way his good hand was digging into the flesh of his other arm beneath his cloak. It takes a moment for him to relax himself.

"It would be better if we find someone else to do this. I can manage until then."