“Are you,” started the redheaded lass. “Alright?” Her last form of word crumbled to a whisper as she bent herself level with the other.

“General?” A wispy calling spread through her pale pink lips. Fingers clipped to one another in a frantic notion. She had heard Zoya’s heartbeat from a good distance away and decided to see if she needed any assistance. Or company? Perhaps that was reaching.

“Oh. Saints.”

Good evening to you as well, madame! Should you need anything, I'll be on call.

Are... are you certain? I was told by the General to call you all the formalities. Would be unwise to go against him.