She does look at him then, meaning it to be furtive because his voice, what's wrong with his voice, command doesn't sound like that, there are no orders to it.
And then she can't look away. He looks familiar, like a friend, but she has no friends (soldiers neither have nor need them) and he's not in uniform and his eyes. She knows them, they're beautiful (beautiful things don't matter) and why isn't he smiling, it's so good when he smiles, but she doesn't know him, but she does--
Wrath looks back toward the ceiling. She flexes her fingers slowly, tries to speak through a suddenly very dry throat. "I do not understand, sir." Something is wrong, very wrong. Wrong with her, she can't remember, and she's scared, she shouldn't be scared, she never feels anything except the far off glow of anger that never quite seems to go away. "What are your orders?" This time it's her voice that cracks on that last word.
Day 152 | Morning | Action
And then she can't look away. He looks familiar, like a friend, but she has no friends (soldiers neither have nor need them) and he's not in uniform and his eyes. She knows them, they're beautiful (beautiful things don't matter) and why isn't he smiling, it's so good when he smiles, but she doesn't know him, but she does--
Wrath looks back toward the ceiling. She flexes her fingers slowly, tries to speak through a suddenly very dry throat. "I do not understand, sir." Something is wrong, very wrong. Wrong with her, she can't remember, and she's scared, she shouldn't be scared, she never feels anything except the far off glow of anger that never quite seems to go away. "What are your orders?" This time it's her voice that cracks on that last word.