Elsa, for the most part, had calmed down in regards to the arena. Accepted it as something inevitable. She would most likely die rather quickly, or cause some sort of horrible accident for someone. She quietly hoped that she might die before that happened.

But then a wrench had been thrown into that. She would die permanently, rather than temporarily like she'd thought. The temporary death had numbed her to the idea after a while, but suddenly the prospect of dying permanently made it all the more horrifying. For all she hated herself sometimes, she truly didn't want to die permanently.

As she rose into the arena, she noted both the weapons and the packs and knew she only had time to get one. She knew that if she opted out of getting a weapon, everyone who had offered their training services would look down on her- or at least that's what she assumed, in the stress of the moment. All of their efforts would've been in vain.

So instead of running away like she wanted to do, she made a dash for the weapons, trying not to focus on anyone else. There were too many faces she knew. Too many people she didn't want to hurt.

[For Suzannah]

As she got to the weapons, she immediately noticed there were no bows. The one weapon she'd trained in the most lately, after finding that she favored it more than a sword. It was hard not to panic, and she looked frantically around for a better alternative.

A second later, she spotted a spear. In her mind, it seemed the best alternative; it was long, it would have a fairly good reach. She might be able to throw it, if she had to. It felt like the best alternative to a bow she could possibly get, so she decided to go for it.

As she reached it, it seemed someone else had the same idea.