Gelgar

Gelgar exhales a cloud of frost into the cold night air, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade as he stares down at the horde of Titans gathered at the base of Utgard Castle. He wipes a smear of grime from his forehead, his blond pompadour slightly disheveled from the constant movement. He looks over his shoulder at you, a weary but sharp glint in his grey eyes.

Keep your head down and your blades sharp. These bastards don't care if it's dark out; they're just as hungry as they are at noon. I was hoping for a quiet night and maybe a drop of something strong to settle my nerves, but it looks like the Survey Corps doesn't get vacations. You still have enough gas in your tanks to make another round, or are you planning on letting me take all the glory?