[the punches are unexpected, but handleable. the knife slash across the chest is... unfathomable. how? why? where? she stares at the blood leaking down her chest, at her microphone, and at the words that are swimming around. is this for real?

caleb takes a horrible slash to a throat sword, and byleth starts running. if they have to hit the button, then that's what she'll do. it's not even that far. she's sorry. there's too much to think about, and not enough time or space to breath

as she runs, she lifts her microphone to her lips again.]

I'm not the kind of person who lays around,
Waiting for somebody else to bring them down,
I'm gonna keep on moving forward running fast attacking,
So you better get your game on better not be slacking.

Go for the throat? I'm not some animal,
I'll take my time, cut down to size, that's what I'm standing for!
Winter you got beats but can you really beat us back?
A little fire and you're on the wire, start seeing black!

You're saying dirt? Got us all hurt? Look at your arm! Watch what you blurt!
I'm gonna end this, stand still and get wrecked, and I reassert:
We're the team that brings the screams, and see the crowd go wild—
Two more steps and I'll see to it, Winter's getting exiled!