Chapter six

Claire slumped against a tree, catching her breath as the last of the shadow dissipated into the night. Her naginata felt heavy in her hands, her entire body trembling from the brief but intense encounter. The adrenaline was fading now, leaving her exhausted—and worse, her side was burning.

She winced, her hand going to her ribs, feeling the jagged cuts beneath her shirt. The fabric clung to her skin, sticky with blood. The brief fight had made it worse, and she could feel the wetness soaking through, the pain sharper now.

“Claire?” Harold’s voice cut through the quiet. He was crouching next to her before she could respond, his eyes wide with concern. “You’re bleeding!”

Elise glanced over, her sharp gaze assessing Claire’s condition in an instant. “You’ve been injured this whole time?” she asked, her tone both surprised and irritated, like Claire had hidden it on purpose.

“I’m fine,” Claire mumbled, gritting her teeth as she tried to shift without aggravating the wound. “I’ll be fine. It’s just… got worse after that fight.”

Elise knelt beside her, ignoring Claire’s weak protests. “That’s not fine.” She reached for the hem of Claire’s shirt. “Take this off, now.”

Claire froze for a second, her breath catching. “It’s… kind of stuck,” she admitted, her cheeks reddening a little. She didn’t want to admit how much it hurt.

Elise rolled her eyes. “I can see that.” She reached out, her fingers deftly helping to pull at the fabric. “This is going to hurt, so bite down if you need to.”

Claire winced as the blood-soaked shirt peeled away from her skin, sticking to the cuts beneath. Every movement sent sharp stabs of pain through her ribs, and she couldn’t hold back a hiss of discomfort.

“Yeah, that’s definitely not fine,” Harold muttered, standing off to the side and watching with wide eyes. His gaze lingered a little too long, his face flushed with awkwardness.

“Stop gawking and get the healing herbs,” Elise snapped, not bothering to look up at him.

Harold jumped as if snapped out of a trance, his face turning beet red. “Right! Yeah, sorry!” He scrambled away, nearly tripping over a branch as he went to rummage through the packs.

Elise shook her head, muttering under her breath. “Men.”

Claire, still grimacing from the pain, let out a weak laugh despite herself. “I don’t blame him… It’s not exactly every day you see this kind of thing.”

Elise arched an eyebrow. “Get used to it. Out here, you either learn to handle your wounds or you don’t last long.”

Claire’s breath hitched as Elise gently prodded the cut along her ribs. “This is deep, but I’ve seen worse,” Elise said, her voice cool and professional. “We’ll need to clean it first. Hold still.”

Before Claire could protest, Elise began pouring water over the wound, washing away the grime and dried blood. Claire hissed, her body tensing as the cold water hit her skin, the pain flaring sharply.

“Just breathe,” Elise said, her tone softer now as she worked. “It’ll sting, but you’ll live.”

Harold returned, holding a small bundle of dried herbs in one hand and a bandage in the other. “Got the stuff!” he said, looking relieved that he could be useful. He hesitated for a moment, glancing between the herbs and Claire’s exposed side, clearly trying not to stare.

“Good.” Elise took the herbs from him and crushed them between her fingers, the faint scent of something earthy filling the air. “These will help keep the wound from getting infected,” she said, sprinkling the crushed herbs over the cut. “It’s not fancy, but it’ll do the job.”

Claire winced again as Elise pressed the bandage over the wound, securing it tightly around her torso. “This should hold for now,” Elise said, sitting back on her heels. “But you need to take it easy for a while. Don’t go swinging that naginata around too much until this heals.”

Claire nodded, feeling the tightness of the bandage around her chest. “Thanks,” she muttered, feeling a little embarrassed by how much help she needed.

Elise stood, wiping her hands on her trousers. “You’re lucky we had supplies on hand. Out here, you’ve got to make do with what you can find. Next time, don’t wait until you’re bleeding out to mention that you’re hurt.”

Harold cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yeah, next time, uh… maybe let us know before you start keeling over.”

Claire managed a small smile. “I’ll try to remember that.”

As the night deepened, the fire began to burn lower, the crackling flames casting long shadows around the camp. Elise sat sharpening her blade, the rhythmic sound of metal on stone a comforting presence in the stillness. Harold poked at the fire, adding a fresh log to keep the embers glowing, his usual chatter subdued after the events of the evening.

Claire sat near the edge of the firelight, her body stiff and sore from the day’s events. She wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, trying to stave off the growing chill. The bandages around her ribs were tight, but they helped dull the sharp pain, even if every movement still sent a dull throb through her side.

Elise stood up and stretched, casting a glance toward the darkened forest. “We’ll take turns on watch,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. “Harold, you take first shift. I’ll take second. Claire, you’ll rest for now.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest, but Elise cut her off with a sharp look. “You need the rest more than we do,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ll keep an eye out.”

Harold nodded, though his gaze flicked nervously to the shadows beyond the firelight. “Yeah, don’t worry, Claire. I’ll keep watch. Nothing’s getting past me.”

Claire wasn’t entirely sure she trusted Harold’s watchful eye, but her body was so exhausted that she couldn’t muster the energy to argue. She nodded, sinking down onto the bedroll Harold had thrown together earlier, using her cloak as a makeshift pillow. The warmth of the fire flickered against her skin, the crackling of the wood lulling her into a half-dazed state.

Sleep didn’t come easily.

The moment Claire’s eyes drifted shut, the memory of the creature’s claws tearing into her flashed through her mind. She saw its hulking form in the darkness, the gleam of its fangs as it toyed with her, drawing out the hunt. Her body twisted in her sleep, her breath quickening as the dream became more vivid.

In her nightmare, the shadows grew thicker, deeper, pulling her down into their depths. She tried to run, but the darkness clung to her, dragging her into the abyss. The creature’s growl echoed through the void, its eyes glowing faintly in the distance, watching her with cruel intent.

Claire jolted awake, her heart racing, her body slick with sweat. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was—the shadows still clung to her, the firelight casting eerie shapes on the trees. It took a few deep breaths for her to calm down, her chest heaving as the reality of the camp settled back around her.

As Claire sat up, catching her breath, she could hear Harold and Elise talking quietly on the other side of the fire. They hadn’t noticed her waking, their voices low but carrying just enough for her to pick up snippets of the conversation.

“…strange for an Aetherian to be out here,” Harold was saying, his tone uncertain. “They usually keep to their cities, right?”

Elise was quiet for a moment before responding. “It’s odd,” she admitted. “They don’t usually venture this far into the Wilds without a reason. She said she was with a group, but we haven’t seen any sign of them. And no offense to her, but she doesn’t seem like the usual type we’d find wandering out here.”

“You think she’s lying?” Harold asked, his voice nervous.

Elise sighed. “I don’t know. But we’ll keep an eye on her. There’s more going on here than she’s telling us.”

Claire swallowed hard, pulling the cloak tighter around her. She wasn’t sure if it was the pain or the weight of their words that made her chest tighten, but either way, she knew they were right—there was more she wasn’t saying. And she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it hidden.

The fire crackled softly as Claire shifted beneath her cloak, the warmth doing little to ease the ache in her ribs. Her side throbbed where the bandages wrapped tightly around her, and though the herbs Elise had used helped dull the pain, it was still a reminder of just how vulnerable she was out here.

“You should rest a bit more,” Elise said, standing up and stretching her arms above her head. Her sharp gaze moved from the forest to Claire. “But when you’re ready, I’ll be over by the fire. We’ll start with some training today.”

Claire nodded, still feeling groggy and sore. She wasn’t sure if it was the nightmares or the stress of the last day weighing on her, but her body felt like it had been through a war. “Yeah, just give me a minute.”

Elise gave her a quick nod and walked over to the fire, where Harold was already poking at the embers, trying to coax them back to life. He gave Elise a sheepish grin as she approached. “I’m awake—just keeping busy.”

“Good.” Elise threw another log onto the fire and gestured toward the packs. “Get the supplies ready. Claire’s going to need all the help she can get.”

From her spot on the bedroll, Claire watched them for a moment, then took a deep breath and slowly pushed herself up. Her ribs protested, but the tight bandages held firm, and the pain was manageable. She took a moment to gather herself before walking over to join them.

Elise was stirring the embers when Claire approached, her expression unreadable as she looked up. “Looks like you didn’t get much sleep,” she said, glancing at Claire with a knowing look.

Claire shrugged, sitting down slowly near the fire. “Bad dreams,” she admitted.

Harold rummaged through one of the packs, pulling out strips of dried meat and passing them around. “Best get some food in you before Elise puts you through your paces,” he said with a grin, handing Claire a strip of jerky. “Not exactly gourmet, but it’ll keep you going.”

Claire took the jerky, chewing on it slowly. The meat was tough and salty, and as she shifted her weight, a sharp pain ran through her side. Her mind wandered back to the creature that had attacked her, its massive claws tearing into her flesh. She could still feel the searing pain, the sheer power behind each swipe. It had been toying with her—like a predator testing its prey before the final blow. Every movement now was a painful reminder of how close she had come to being torn apart.

“Thanks,” Claire muttered, pushing the memory aside as best she could. “Though I have a feeling no amount of food is going to make what’s next any easier.”

Elise sat down near the fire, sharpening her blade as she gave the embers a stir. “Eating’s part of survival,” she said simply. “You won’t last long out here if you don’t keep your strength up.”

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Harold nodded, gnawing on his own piece of jerky. “And trust me, you’ll need the energy. Elise isn’t exactly known for taking it easy.”

Elise rolled her eyes, tossing the last of her jerky into her mouth before standing up. “Enough chit-chat. When you’re ready, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

Claire groaned softly, pulling herself to her feet, every muscle in her body protesting the movement. Her ribs still ached from the deep scratches the creature had left, and though the bandages helped, the pain was a constant reminder. Sleep had been little better. Her dreams had been plagued by that night—dark, twisted images of her running through endless forests, the creature always at her heels. Every time she thought she’d escaped, it would be there again, its claws raking through the air. She couldn’t outrun it, no matter how hard she tried.

“You’re really not going to let me take it easy, are you?”

“You’re still alive,” Elise said, standing and stretching her arms. “And as long as you are, you’d better learn to keep it that way.”

Harold, stretching his arms behind his head, grinned. “Hope you’re ready for some real survival training, Claire.”

“Real survival training?” Claire raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a groan as she pulled herself to her feet. “You mean falling over and making a fool of myself?”

“Pretty much!” Harold said, flashing a grin. He then lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I tripped into a bush my first day out here. Elise never let me hear the end of it.”

“I won’t deny that,” Elise said dryly, standing and gesturing for Claire to follow her. “But you won’t have time to make too many mistakes out here, so let’s get the basics down before you trip over your own feet.”

Claire sighed but pushed herself forward, trying to ignore the stiffness in her limbs. The memory of the shadow from the night before still weighed on her, the cold, twisting darkness that had nearly swallowed her. She had felt something strange in that moment, like it had reached out and connected with her. Even now, in the daylight, she couldn’t shake the sensation that something of it still lingered, lurking in the corners of her mind.

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Whatever it is, I’m not going to let it hold me back.

“Lead the way,” she said, her voice steadier this time.

The forest was quiet, save for the occasional birdcall and the rustle of leaves underfoot as the trio made their way through the trees. Elise led the way, her sharp eyes scanning the underbrush as they walked, occasionally pointing out various plants growing along the path.

“This one,” Elise said, stopping by a patch of leafy green plants, “is commonly called Feverleaf. Good for reducing fever and treating infection. You crush it up and make a poultice with water or alcohol.”

Claire nodded, crouching beside her and eyeing the plant. It looked… ordinary. Like something you’d find growing in a garden back on Earth. “How do you tell it apart from something poisonous?”

“Smell it.” Elise held out a leaf, letting Claire sniff the faintly minty aroma. “Anything that smells off—bitter, sour, or rotten—is usually a bad sign. Not always, but it’s a good rule of thumb.”

Claire nodded, committing it to memory as she plucked a leaf of her own and gave it a sniff. She wrinkled her nose at the earthy scent but nodded, feeling proud of herself for at least not confusing it with something toxic.

“Just don’t get cocky,” Elise added, standing up and moving to the next cluster of plants. “Even with experience, you’ll mess up. Some plants can look harmless until it’s too late.”

“Like those,” Harold chimed in from a few feet away, where he was crouched near a bush. “These look pretty safe, right?” He held up a cluster of small, purple berries, grinning like he’d discovered a hidden treasure.

Elise didn’t even glance over before shaking her head. “No. You’ll be puking for days if you eat those.”

Harold’s face fell as he stared at the berries, looking betrayed. “But they look so juicy…”

“Yeah, and they’ll make you just as juicy when you’re sweating through a fever.” Elise didn’t bother hiding her smirk.

Claire stifled a laugh as Harold tossed the berries away, muttering something about “ruined meals” under his breath.

The humor helped ease the tension, but Claire couldn’t stop herself from glancing around the forest every few moments. The memory of the creature’s claws tearing into her was still too fresh. Her ribs throbbed under the bandages as a sharp reminder, but she kept her focus on Elise’s instructions.

“Try this one,” Elise said, kneeling beside a patch of ferns with delicate white flowers. “It’s called Silverblossom. Good for pain relief and helps heal cuts. Careful with the dosage, though—too much, and you’ll get drowsy. Not ideal when you need to stay alert.”

Claire crouched down, mimicking Elise’s movements as she examined the plant. “It’s… pretty.”

“Pretty doesn’t mean harmless.” Elise shot her a warning glance. “Take care with everything out here. The smallest mistake can be deadly.”

Harold, who had wandered off a bit, returned holding another plant. This one had long, spiny leaves and tiny yellow flowers. “What about this one? Looks important.”

Elise glanced at it and immediately snatched it from Harold’s hand, her expression sharp. “That’s Stingerwort. The spines can cause paralysis if they break the skin.”

Harold paled, staring at his hand as if it might start twitching at any second. “Wait, I touched that.”

“Relax,” Elise said, rolling her eyes. “You’re fine as long as the spines don’t break through your skin. But if you had brushed too hard…” She let the implication hang, and Harold’s face turned even paler.

Claire bit back a laugh. “You really know how to pick them.”

“I was testing you,” Harold muttered, glancing warily at the plant before Elise tossed it aside.

“Sure you were,” Claire said with a smirk.

Elise stood up and dusted off her hands. “In all seriousness, pay attention. You’ll need to know these plants if you’re going to survive out here. Not just for healing, but for food, too.”

She led them further into the woods, stopping every now and then to point out useful plants—some for brewing teas to calm the mind, others for easing hunger in a pinch. Claire’s mind raced to keep up with it all, the information pouring in like a torrent. Feverleaf, Silverblossom, Stingerwort—it was like trying to memorize a textbook while walking through a forest that felt like it wanted to swallow her whole.

Claire’s eyes flicked to a nearby bush, and she knelt down to inspect the small, red berries growing on it. “What about these? Are they safe?”

Elise crouched beside her, studying the bush for a moment. “Redthorn berries. Edible, but only after they’re boiled. Raw, they’ll give you stomach cramps.”

“Noted,” Claire said, plucking a few berries to stash in her pouch. “Anything out here that’s actually safe to eat without risking bodily harm?”

“Not much,” Elise admitted with a wry smile. “But there are a few wild roots and tubers you’ll come across. They’re safe raw, though they taste like dirt.”

Harold, who had taken a seat on a nearby log, groaned. “Great. Dirt roots for dinner. This just keeps getting better.”

“You’ll appreciate them when you’re starving,” Elise said, standing up and giving Harold a pointed look. “There’s more out here than meets the eye. If you want to survive in the wilds, you’d better learn to find value in things that look unappetizing.”

Claire shot Harold a teasing smile. “You’ll live. Besides, I’m sure there’s something out here even you can forage.”

Harold smirked. “Maybe if I get desperate enough, I’ll stick to stealing your meals.”

“Good luck with that.” Claire gave him a playful shove as they continued walking. But her mind wandered again to the deeper reality: without this knowledge, she really wouldn’t survive out here. Elise had been right—knowing which plants could heal or harm might be the difference between life and death.

As they continued their herbology lesson, Claire’s nerves settled a little more. The rhythm of learning—of taking small, actionable steps—helped ground her. It made the wilds feel just a little less overwhelming, though the faint pulse of anxiety still lingered at the back of her mind, a quiet reminder of what awaited if she let her guard down.

After hours of learning which plants wouldn’t poison her, Claire’s brain felt just as exhausted as her body. So when Elise led them to a small clearing and pulled out a wooden training stick, Claire sighed, already feeling the weight of what was to come.

“Now, let’s move on to something a bit more practical,” Elise said, handing the stick to Claire. “You’ll need to know how to fight properly if you’re going to survive out here.”

Claire took the stick, eyeing it warily. “I thought my naginata was my weapon?”

“It is,” Elise replied, her expression unreadable. “But right now, you’re more likely to hurt yourself than anything else with that thing. We’ll start with something simpler.”

Claire resisted the urge to roll her eyes, shifting her grip on the wooden stick. Her arms ached from carrying the naginata earlier, and her ribs still throbbed from the creature’s attack. The weight of the training stick wasn’t much, but it felt heavier in her tired hands. She took a deep breath, determined not to embarrass herself too badly.

“Come at me,” Elise said, adopting a combat stance, her movements fluid.

Claire blinked. “Wait, what?”

Elise’s eyes narrowed. “I said, come at me. Show me what you’ve got.”

Claire hesitated, glancing at Harold, who was leaning against a tree with a grin on his face. “This should be good,” he said, clearly enjoying the show.

Stubbornness flared in Claire’s chest. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward, swinging the stick toward Elise’s side.

In an instant, Elise sidestepped effortlessly, barely moving as Claire’s strike cut through the air. Before Claire could react, Elise’s stick tapped the back of her knee, and her legs buckled. Claire stumbled forward, barely catching herself before she hit the ground.

“Not bad,” Elise said dryly, her tone unbothered. “For someone who’s never held a weapon.”

Claire groaned, pushing herself up with a grimace. The pain in her ribs flared, but she forced it down. “I’m starting to think you enjoy this.”

Harold snorted from the sidelines. “Don’t take it personally. She makes everyone feel like that.”

Elise’s lips twitched in a brief smile. “Again.”

Claire huffed but gripped the stick tighter, determined not to let herself fall again. She moved forward, swinging at Elise’s side once more—but the result was the same. Elise dodged easily, her movements precise, and a moment later, Claire found herself on the ground again, breathless and frustrated.

Lying on her back, Claire stared up at the canopy of leaves overhead, the shadows dancing as the wind rustled the branches. Her muscles throbbed from the repeated effort, and her ribs protested every movement. But the stubborn part of her refused to quit.

“You’ve got potential,” Elise said, offering Claire a hand to help her up. “But you’re thinking too much. Relax your grip, let your body move.”

Claire grunted, accepting Elise’s hand and pulling herself to her feet. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

Both Harold and Elise exchanged confused glances.

“A… truck?” Harold asked, frowning. “What’s that?”

Claire blinked, realizing her slip. “Uh… it’s… like a really big, heavy thing that hits you. You know, like getting trampled by a… really large animal.”

Harold looked even more confused for a moment, then his face lit up in understanding. “Oh, you mean like an Ironhoof?”

Claire blinked. “An Ironhoof?”

Harold gave her a surprised look. “You’ve never heard of an Ironhoof? They’re these huge bull-like creatures—built like boulders with horns sharp enough to skewer you. Mean as anything. Thought everyone knew about them.”

Elise gave Harold a sidelong glance but said nothing, her gaze shifting back to Claire. “Ironhoofs don’t wander near the floating cities. Guess you don’t get many of them where you’re from.”

Claire, trying to cover her awkwardness, gave a quick nod. “Right, yeah, we don’t see much of that.”

Harold chuckled, clearly not picking up on the tension. “Well, consider yourself lucky. They’ve crushed more than a few people who didn’t move fast enough.”

Elise, still eyeing Claire with mild suspicion, nodded. “You’ll feel worse tomorrow, but you’re still standing. So, again.”

The next hour passed in a blur of mistakes and corrections. Claire swung too wide, missed her footing, and once even managed to hit herself in the leg with the stick. Each time, Elise’s movements were smooth and effortless, while Claire’s body fought her every step of the way.

By the time they took a break, Claire was panting, her arms and legs burning from the effort. She collapsed onto the grass, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The ache in her ribs had grown sharper with every swing, but she refused to let herself complain.

Elise sat down beside her, tossing the training stick aside. “You’re learning,” she said, her tone more encouraging now. “It’s not easy, but you’ve got the right instincts. You just need to stop overthinking.”

Claire rolled onto her back, staring up at the sky. “I feel like I’ve been hit by that Ironhoof now.”

Harold wandered over, holding out a canteen of water. “You’re doing better than I did on my first day. Pretty sure I hit myself in the face with a stick.”

Claire snorted, taking the canteen from him and gulping down the water. “Thanks for the boost in confidence.”

Harold grinned, flopping down beside her. “Hey, if you’re not bleeding, you’re doing fine.”

“I think that’s debatable,” Claire muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. The pain in her ribs was still a constant throb, but for the first time, she felt like she was making some progress.

Elise stood up, dusting off her hands. “Take a few minutes, then we’ll go again. You’ll get better with practice.”

Claire sighed, letting her eyes drift shut for a moment. She was exhausted, bruised, and sore, but she wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

Claire swung the practice stick again, her muscles burning from the repeated effort. This time, Elise had to move quicker—she couldn’t sidestep entirely. Instead, she blocked Claire’s strike with a firm parry, her posture shifting just enough to deflect the blow without losing balance.

“Better,” Elise noted, her tone carrying a hint of approval. “You’re forcing me to react. Keep it up.”

Claire’s breath was ragged, but she nodded, resetting her stance. She attacked again, trying to focus on tighter movements and sharper precision. The stick met Elise’s defense with a sharp crack, and this time, Claire could feel the force of her own swing reverberate through the parry.

Elise’s arms tensed slightly as she deflected the blow, her feet shifting to adjust. She had to brace herself that time.

Claire allowed herself a small grin. Progress.

But Elise wasn’t going to make it easy. “Again,” she commanded, her sharp tone cutting through Claire’s brief moment of satisfaction. Claire stepped forward, aiming lower this time, hoping to change her approach. Elise caught the strike with a deft parry, but there was a noticeable flicker of effort in the block—Claire could see it.

“You’re still predictable,” Elise said, her voice even but less critical now. “You’re telegraphing your moves. Don’t let me see your next step.”

Claire gritted her teeth, her frustration building, but she attacked again, trying to disguise her intentions. This time, Elise parried more sharply, her muscles tensing for a split second as Claire’s blow came quicker.

“There,” Elise said, stepping back slightly. “You’re getting faster.”

Claire panted, her arms trembling from the exertion, but she nodded, feeling a faint thrill of accomplishment. Finally.

Harold, sitting cross-legged off to the side, clapped slowly. “Yup. Definitely getting better. Less flailing.”

“Thanks, Harold,” Claire muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. She lunged forward again, determined to maintain her momentum. Elise’s stick met hers with another sharp crack, but this time, Claire noticed that her mentor’s movements weren’t as fluid as before—Elise had to put a bit more effort into each block.

“You’re still leaving openings,” Elise commented, though there was a hint of approval in her voice. “But you’re learning.”

Claire groaned, rolling her shoulders and feeling the strain in her muscles. “I feel like I’m fighting myself more than you.”

“You’ll be fighting a lot worse than yourself soon enough,” Elise said, lowering her stick. “But you’re learning how to move. That’s more than most.”

Claire grumbled, resetting her stance. “Not fast enough.”

Elise tilted her head, appraising her. “Tomorrow, we’ll start with dodging and evasion. You’re not ready to attack properly until you can stop getting hit.”

Claire slumped, the practice stick hanging at her side. “So, basically, I get to dodge being smacked all day?”

“If you’re quick enough,” Elise said with a faint smirk.

Claire sighed, her body already aching at the thought. “I’ve barely survived today.”

Harold ambled over, tossing her a canteen. “Hey, as long as you don’t impale yourself, you’re doing better than I did.”

Claire took a grateful sip, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thanks for setting the bar so low.”

“You’ll be sore as hell tomorrow,” Elise said, stretching her arms. “But you’re making progress.”

Harold grinned. “Just think of it as learning to avoid an Ironhoof.”

Claire shot him a tired look. “If I see an Ironhoof coming my way, I’ll just play dead.”

Harold laughed. “Good strategy. Just don’t try that with Elise.”