[Alear doesn't let go; she doesn't think she could even if she wanted to, but something about that gesture makes her heart jump to her throat. The unfinished sentence, everything about this--]

I won't. I'm going to look forward to the future, and to what will come of it. Because I know we're going to win.

[She should let go. She doesn't want to let go or move her hand, or do everything, despite the tension that feels like it's building. Towards what? Alear doesn't know, but...

...]

But...hey. Mind if I give something to you? Not a new scar or anything, but something else.