Bette walked over to meet Kit at the stables where her sister already had four horses rounded up. She had spent Shane’s recovery time arming herself with weapons that had been given to her as a gift. Well, actually they were locked in the armory . . same thing. She grabbed everything she could and even took four sets of armor, they were going to war after all.

"You ready to go?" Bette asked.

Kit nodded as she finished tightening a strap on one of the horse saddles. She too was fully packed with everything from magic powder to mystical potions.

"Do you think Nikki would mind that we took all this stuff?"

Bette adjusted her belt, it now had a sword sheath on either side not to mention two dagger ones. She slightly pulled out a sword at a time to check on them before slipping it back inside the sheath.

"I don’t give a shit what Nikki thinks. If anything she owes us all this stuff"

Kit nodded and took the time to look at her sister. Bette was armed to the tooth wearing dark blue and silver light armor. It was specially made for fighters like her, agile but strong. She had throwing knives strapped to her legs, exploding spheres resting comfortably in a pouch on her side. She even had a large battle axe strapped to her back.

Bette didn’t wear a helmet and that almost made Kit smile. Her sister looked every bit like a deadly fighting machine yet with her flowing brown hair and beautiful face, she was pretty much a walking contradiction.

Kit herself wore light armor only hers was made out of a reinforced cloth, fit for magic users. The armor was specially designed for Wizards, Witches, Oracles and any other magic user, enhancing their power. The armor was a sort of energy source and Kit would be sure to put it to good use.

She wasn’t strapped with any weapons but then again she didn’t need any. Kit was a walking weapon after all.

Shane and Carmen walked over to them with Shane looking much better than before. They walked hand in hand as Carmen gently rubbed Shane’s arm with her free hand. The Latina had a look of worry across her face not that Bette blamed her.