The woman looks up as the Oldblood sits next to her, and smiles. It's a strange smile, tinted with the insanity of those who had been brainwashed by the Purge. It was a look familiar to those who had spent long enough on the fields of battle. It was an unforgettable look, so perfectly mirrored in this woman's face. It was the look of one who doesn't fear death, or even one that would seek it out. It was the face of a psychopath, uncaring about life or death. Impossible to threaten, coerce, or intimidate. "If that is so, then so be it. My death will not be in vain, for you will never touch down onto the ground."

The woman leans her head down, whispering under her breath as she closes her eyes. It takes only a moment for the surprised Oldblood to figure out that she was praying.