Something like blood is dripping from her spear as she yanks it from the creature; it's grotesque, but it's not what Aloy's looking at now. She's looking at him. Rust-like stains remain on the disk-blades as the blood sizzles off it, then even those stains burn away. The blood on the armour and tiny bits of blood on the headdress don't go away, though, even as he minutely shifts, crouching in place.

Somehow the sight of him then is even more intimidating than the littered corpses, though she couldn't begin to explain why. But some part of her...

"That was... That was really something." Part of her thinks that might have been the most awesome bit of fighting she's ever seen. "How long did that take to learn?"

She spent most of her life learning what she can do, but this...