“Why don’t you have a helmet? That’s the silliest thing I’ve seen today!” Sirra asked Tentin, forgoing introduction because there was a war on.
“I didn’t want to be mistaken for a soldier,” Tentin replied. He was glad to see her, but had no particular reason to be. He also couldn’t tell himself exactly what she looked like. ‘What he needed to see’ was the general answer, though it was hardly a place for one to think much.
“I’m Sirra,” she said. “Please take the helmet and look over the top. I can’t hear any clackers but the bombs are still coming down.”
“Tentin,” he said, and took the helmet, unable to tell her any decent reason not to. He set it on, rose in a half-crouch, and looked over a retreating battle. Pakit and company had retaken the enemy trenches again and seemed to be pushing them out of the village.