[ It's when one of those soldiers starts walking her way that she moves from where she's standing. She knows well enough what it's like to be herded, and even if the soldiers are treating the others with a kind of care she'd never seen from the Masters, it's been far too long since she's known a gentle hand for her to want to be touched.
She spies him one she ducks past some of the debris: the soldier from earlier on.
He'd left quite the impression on her, with the sheer elegance of his brutality, the efficiency by which he'd cut down those among the Masters who'd resisted.
Creeping quietly behind some crates, she crouches low to watch him and ignores the soft rumble of her own stomach at the sight of the fruit cradled in his armored hand. ]
no subject
She spies him one she ducks past some of the debris: the soldier from earlier on.
He'd left quite the impression on her, with the sheer elegance of his brutality, the efficiency by which he'd cut down those among the Masters who'd resisted.
Creeping quietly behind some crates, she crouches low to watch him and ignores the soft rumble of her own stomach at the sight of the fruit cradled in his armored hand. ]