[center][h1]Sorici Amberra[/h1][/center]

[b]Earlier:[/b]

	Sorici's heart was about to hammer through her chest, her proximity to the dirt the only thing keeping her from screaming out. An armored foot was grinding into her back, keeping her pinned with the help of the hands that had her arms twisted behind her back. The dust from the nearby collapsed tunnel was stinging her eyes, or at least that was what she told herself was the reason for the tears rolling down her cheeks. It couldn't be the pain in her muscles, the fear and frustration at helplessness, or her betrayal by way of surviving instead of dying nobly as was her intent. No, she would never accept that it could be those things.

	Pulled out of her thoughts and to her feet, Sorici found herself face-to-face with what she could only assume was the leader of the Drakken party that had just finished raiding her home. [i]"He must be. His eyes are the cruelest."[/i] He gripped her chin roughly and tilted her head, examining her bloodied and dirty face from every angle. A malicious grin formed on his face. "Well, little rat, as much as I would like to gut you like the rest of your group of infringing pests, your looks will earn me a better reward." As a cold chill settled over her heart, the drakken turned and barked a few orders at some of the other soldiers. Being in too much shock to have heard them, she let out a squeak of surprise as she had her hands were bound and she was tossed roughly over a muscular shoulder. "You filthy-!" she had only time to get out part of what was to be her last act of defiance before a strike to the back of her head cut out her voice and thoughts.

...

[b]Present:[/b]

	She, as usual for the last few days, awoke to the feeling of cold water weighing down her clothes and chilling her bones. Her eyes snapped open as she tried frantically to get her feet on something solid. To her surprise, she was in what appeared to be a bathing room instead of a muddy creek. "Wash yourself and get dressed." A harsh voice came from behind Sorici, and she turned just in time to see a large Drakken toss her bag in her direction and leave the room, closing the door with a loud snap. In the silence that followed, the events from earlier fully started to sink in. Staying composed for just long enough to peel her wet clothes off and shakily settling down into the water, she felt the emotional stress of the past overflow.

	For what felt like an hour, but was likely only a few minutes, she alternated between hyperventilating and dunking her head under water to muffle her fearful wimpering. As much stress as she was under, she would rather drown herself than let a Drakken have the chance of hearing her crying. As her overwhelming fear gradually died down because had no energy left to fuel it, her sobs turned to hiccups, and hiccups to silence. It was in silence that she washed herself, tied her long hair into an elaborate knot at the top of her neck, tied her slightly smaller and more flimsy-looking than usual khopesh to her thigh (did they even open her bag? Well, it was surrounded by a knot of tangles clothes), and pulled on the one dress that had been in the bag that she had packed when there had still been hope that the Gems could flee. It was one of the only things she owned that she could call pretty, as every other item of clothing of hers had been strictly practical. It was long and cream colored, but the skirt was cut into strips to allow for free leg movement. The top was sleeveless and made to look like flowery patterns of lace were the only things covering her skin. Though she had been helped heavily with the stitching and whatnot, what lied on the waste and choker-like neckline was entirely her work: dozens of diamonds, quartz, and other translucent gemstones.

	Strangely calm as she ran her fingers over the cold jewels, a new train of thought was starting to run through her mind. Back at the outpost, the only way to get anywhere was to respect one's superiors. It didn't matter what your personal thoughts on them was. If they outranked you, you listened and obeyed, even if you despised them. What would make Drakkens any different? Crying, whining, petulance, and smart mouths would certainly be useless in a place where survival would be a daily struggle for a physically weaker being. Besides, though her hate for these wretched beings was not diminished, her will had been bent too harshly to snap back right away. It would take some time before anyone would get more than a dead look and some empty words out of her. [i]"For now, all I can do is be hard and unfeeling. I can already tell that survival will require it, and I will survive, even without any life to go back to."[/i]

	After pulling on what could only be described as strips of tan cloth meant to only cover the arch of her foot and ankle while leaving the balls of her feet, her heels, and toes exposed to the ground, she checked to make sure her posture was straight and let herself be escorted down the stairs by a set of guards and into the room of brides and Drakkens. [i]"I will act as though I notice no one until I am spoken directly to."[/i] she resolved.