"Eh?" Luka seems taken aback by her response. "Well.. I wasn't born! But my parents were, and my grandparents before that. We've always been here."

Luka whips back when the nunchuk connects, his hand involuntarily spasming and the sword dropping from his clutch. He immediately drops to his knees, frantically searching the ground beneath him until his fingers swipe it's blade, cutting him shallowly and tainting the water with his blood.

"If you're trying to tell me you're a natural part of this world, you're lying." He swiftly picks up the hilt, now wet with his blood and the water, and points the sword at her again. "You'll say anything to trick me into pitying you."