[It grates on her, but not because she thinks it's presumptuous. She's just mad at the whole cultural order of it, that whatever they are is defined and elevated by referring to the people who failed them so spectacularly, whom Anya failed in turn. Quietly, she mutters,]

People always get that backward. It's - in the original saying, it's about the blood shed by comrades in battle, how it's more important than the water of the womb.

We're blood, you and me. It's real. It's right.

[She laughs a little, soft and rough and rueful.]

I just wish we'd been stuck with each other from the beginning, you know?

[However terribly they've gotten along, on occasion, at least they've both always cared.]