Sasha rolled off of his cot as the sun began to shine through the window. His bare feet met the dirt floor. His pale, shirtless torso gleemed in the sun, untouched by its rays long enough to give it any sort of color. Sasha didn't tend to go around shirtless much anymore; the hideous scars on his back weren't something he liked to show off.

It seemed like not too long ago that he got those scars, and he was fighting for his life in the medical ward. Weeks of recovery after infection had set in left the large man weak. Five years later, he had fully recovered, but those scars still seemed like they hurt from time to time. 

Sasha stood and began going about his morning routine: get dressed, wash his face, eat something, and go out for his morning jog. After the Arab migrants had left, the area they had once inhabited was left up for grabs. While the hand-built houses and huts were nothing fancy, Sasha was easy to please. He'd happily moved into one. 

He set down at his shabby table and poured himself a bowl of milk and cereal. Both were something that Isam's community had imported. Apparently they had quite the little farm going on over there. They came by often to trade cows, grains, and produce for salvaged electronic parts and metal scraps. Sasha often wondered what they were planning on building with all that crap.

He munched on his breakfast, staring at the brick walls of the house until his bowl ran dry. Sasha got up and put the bowl in the sink before heading out for the day. 

The Paradise Land was nothing like he'd ever seen before. It wasn't a struggle to survive here; not like out [i]there[/i] anyway. Nobody had to kill to live, and there was usually enough to go around. Sasha didn't feel like someone would try to kill him at any given moment, a security he hadn't felt in his previous years. 

Of course, after the war, people weren't all that welcoming towards him. Everyone knew he had come from the despicable group that had attacked them, and his attitude didn't help. Sasha's defensive barriers were still up towards those he didn't know well enough. Or those he didn't care to know at [i]all[/i]. The few he had let past that thick outer skin mostly consisted of those who had first met him in the medical ward. The people who had helped him recover through what was a very painful end to a very painful chapter of his life. Those few people knew that he was loyal to the Promise Land, so everyone else could shove it for all [i]he[/i] cared.

Sasha started off down the road on his usual route. It took him around the city wall, letting him get a good patrol in while he jogged.