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Consorting with children on time of war, unless it were given a very good purpose, would have offered Schörl a cause to wonder about the dedication and motivations of one of her own Generals. For her own part, she was not 'patrolling' late, but was hunting. Feeling out around the city as she went for the signatures of chaos and order, training her sense for a clearer sense of the differences of the level of powers. What subtleties were there between a Youma and a lieutenant? Between the tiny scouts and their larger, more mundane variety scouts? In the captains versus the Super Scouts?

Then she felt she was come near an order signature at last, and decided to investigate. What sort is it? What does it do here and why is it out at this particular hour? How aware are they of our signatures? How much of this magic is two ways?

It was...a small scout. Skipping and happy. She did not feel any other signatures near, unless they were hiding in plain clothes. She followed along, above on the rooftops, moving to catch up before she leapt down to the energetic ball of a boy. "A little late for smiles on streets instead of tucked away in bed, little scout. There's no teddy bears out here to keep the dark at bay."

"This is war, not a social party."

" I can see that it's only half-dead, pet. You're still breathing. Let's take care of that other half, not with fright but fist, and get you fully dead." She wasn't yelling, she was practically purring. She would waste no time with this one, and no winged savior was going to be given a chance to swoop in to the rescue. She wheeled her hands like grasping for imaginary silk, or more precisely a grab-and-break technique for the indignant boy's wrist. the best way to stop cellphone use was to make sure they only had one hand to do anything with. If she got that hand, she would pull forward to hyper extend his arm across herself and punch out her other palm to break that little elbow.

Having reeled the squeak in to break his arm, those little legs were certainly in range to connect with her shins. And connect they did, scuffing her spats, bruising her tibia mostly likely, and eliciting an angry growl from the Lieutenant. Apparently being powered up meant even small children were stronger than their regular elementary counterparts.

But it did serve as a impetus to get her to not keep hold of him. She threw him away from her at the wall, not caring how he hit, only that she hoped it was hard and painful.

Oh look, trying to crawl away. Schörl smiled to herself, scanning the surrounding as the little body struggled along for any nearby signatures. No, no saviors waiting in the wings or rapidly approaching from any direction. And other than the busy road outside the alley, there wasn't much in the way of waiting civilians who could be paying attention to the struggle in the shadows. No one to power up of a sudden. "'Children' in truth don't belong in war. But there will be no next time for you to consider that before putting on that uniform."

She vaulted over the crawling boy to get between him and his intended escape route out to the street. She wasn't going to let this one get away. Not out of the alley. Not to the street and its cars where someone might open a door to him. Not alive. "The only thing left to decide is how...you die. "

She moved forward to grab the little thing up by the skull. Once she had him, it woudl be a simple matter of looking him in the eyes, a quick snap, and break that little neck.

Schörl took the few steps, heavy clicks on the pavement, and crouched down, petting her hands into the tousled hair with reverent gentleness completely alien to her purpose. "You put on your uniform. You went out into the world to try your small hands at a purpose in War. I commend your bravery in that. It will be clean, it will be fast, and then you will be done, little one."

"A soldier's death."

She stood, picking him up by the sides of his head so that the rest of his body dangled. She lifted him up a little more, as his eyes looked down. "Look me in the eye, and die like a man."

As soon as he met her eyes, he was going to die.

Schörl's shoulders bunched, anticipating the moment, but it didn't come. There was the boy's voice, lagged in her mind as she was blown backwards, out the alley. But out the alley was a short sidewalk and then a street- the sort with cars and trucks on it. Or rather with Schörl on cars and trucks, bouncing off the trunk of a Corolla and then draped like wet laundry over the jersey barrier. There was the blaring sound of a semi's horn as it swerved to not clip the backside of the new barrier decoration.

Schörl's vision reeled a moment, but she re-oriented what was up and down and pushed off to look look back over her shoulder and see the small body silhouette running. Then another truck swerved, and she started back so as not to get her face clipped.

Too much traffic to be quick about pursuit. The Lieutenant scowled blackly. It'll be another couple moments before I can get up and across, or a clear leap to the buildings.

" I won't forget you, pet! When you put that uniform on again, it means you're in a War. And War will find you! " She yelled after, into the dark.