"Hey, Wendall?" The scissors stop moving for a moment "aye?" Xiao exhales anxiously, "How did you get over not being respected? You never married, I can imagine what people must say about you."

"Well, I'm quite stubborn, I might be old now but at one point ah was young an' radge. I was quite the rebel," she giggles maniacally. Wendall's generation had prospered well enough financially, but women had always been seen as inferior in this nation. Oftentimes only being noticed when chosen as pawns in a political gambit, or having otherwise some use. If xiao had decided to stay in this town it would be difficult to keep below the radar without finding a husband.

"Tryin' to recruit others to empathize with mah cause, rally up th' women and give them purpose. But they were content! as long as they're well-cared fur an' fed, what is there to want? They'd even get angry at me, call me ungrateful or childish!"

"Even when you were fighting for them?" Xiao accidentally blurts a little too harshly.

"You never answered my question though, all you're saying is what makes you angry"

"Aye, that's what I'm sayin', ye never get over it fully" she cackles. "the only thing ye can do is try to understand them, anger an' bitterness block ye from fully seein', just look at me!" xiao shakes her head "you and your gallows humor."

Wendall finishes the back and hands xiao the shears to do the rest. She picks up a chunk of hair from the left side of her face and slowly works away at it. Piece after piece falls until her hair is completely short, the longest pieces covering her eyes; she decides to leave it that way after determining the more of her face that's covered, the better. She would still need to adequately disguise herself, but the more prepared she was now, the fewer questions would be asked. Looking down, she wore a long, brown linen dress, with long sleeves and a tied detail at the neckline. She took the shears and started cutting away roughly at the dress, at the length of her hips. When that was done, she took the green pants and put them on. They were baggy even with the belt, and most of the fabric had to be stuffed into the combat boots. Looking in the mirror she surprised herself, despite the sickly appearance she had started to look quite refined, it was the most expensive she had ever looked.

She found herself melancholic despite so desperately wanting to leave just moments ago. Knowing that it was very possible she would never come back both excited and terrified her. However gruesome this place had been to her, there were still moments of peace and comfort here. Times where Gwendal would join her in her training, correcting her stance when needed, sometimes a bit too harshly; Long hours spent under the burning sun, limbs aching from bo staff training; watching the kids from the monastery grow. Staying here and remaining as the person she was wasn't an option though. If she wanted to live freely she had to be able to support herself. She picks up the bo-staff, the light and flexible rattan material rests comfortably in her hand.