> tactician in tip-top shape, after all."

Chrom gave his best friend a reassuring smile. Whatever seemed to trouble the tactician's mind, Chrom hoped that he could alleviate some of the stress that compounded on Robin.

> feelings of self-doubt seep out. Rather, he tried to be the beacon of hope the other Shepherds can rely on. Robin, especially.

"Er, yeah..." The prince murmured, attempting to find /something/ to converse about. "I just hope you're not overworking yourself there, Robin. The Shepherds need their >

> was an awkward stillness in the air between the two, though, not one of friction. His mind and heart were heavy, too, with the prospect of their oh-so bittersweet victory over Plegia. One that should've been celebrated by all--including /her/.

But as their leader, he wouldn't dare let those >

"No, they won't. But that's just how the world works, I suppose." Chrom concurred. He leaned against the door threshold, arms crossed.

"Time seems to fly, doesn't it? Since the day that--" The prince started, before pausing to clear his throat. Perhaps some things were better left unsaid.

There >

> the general condition of the encampment. He entered one of the many studies the facility offered and saw his diligent tactician hard at work.

"Oh, Robin. I didn't expect to find you here," said Chrom, nodding his head to greet the other. "Sorry. I hope I'm not intruding."

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