The wood frame of the bed creaks as he adjusts his position, sitting up proper. Guts picks up on the awkwardness, but chalks it up to her being a kid over any magic powers. He'd seen plenty of frightened villagers holed up in their lords' castles, including children. From atop a horse and donned in armor, he didn't seem any different from the other soldiers riding around the place. He could understand her feeling fearful.

"The battlefield ain't some training ground in a cushy village. If you don't win, the otherside'll kill you or put you to work until you die. People lie and stab you in the back to save their own hides."

He's blunt about it, in a way that came from simple lived experience. He was about her age when he'd killed his first man.

"If I had a choice, I'd rather take some of my enemy down with me rather than give 'em a chance to catch me."