Fareeha realized too late how stupid her request sounded as Angela walked off. Water! She was wounded and fatigued for crying out loud. Though perhaps out of a right state of mind, she could make due without water for a while longer. A nurse was bound to bring something by. 

She sighed. She'd have to apologize after Angela returned. It was a selfish split minute decision made out of convenience.

Opening a small compartment on her armor, Fareeha took out a [url=https://cdn3.patreon.com/1/patreon.posts/14917252868411619900.jpg?v=QZsCEDR-FmFnzoEJTMXct422_kFil86BruAYjwoeggI%3D]picture[/url] of her and her mother. Nothing recent, but a prized possession she kept from her younger days. Tired eyes stared at it. A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. What would conversation would Fareeha and her younger self have if they could have the impossible chance? Would the youth smile so care free as in the picture? Would mother look as relaxed as she did in that snap shot of time? Fareeha bit the inside of her lip. What would she say to the woman who raised her if she met her now?

Anger? Resentment? Fareeha played dozens of imaginary fictions of the reunion. Many of them brought her close to tears while an equal amount of others steeled her heart. What did she care if she met her again? Even though Angela's words made her reflect on how much she missed her mother, the rift from Ana vanishing and the walls Fareeha erected to protect herself couldn't be instantly removed. What would probably happen was a smack to the woman's face. And then-

Bringing a hand to her face, Fareeha dabbed at the wetness. She laughed and exhaled as she dried her face. No matter how great the anger, this was her mother. No matter the resentment, she couldn't bring herself to swear violence against her. These feelings were a farce. All she wanted was-

She jumped as Angela stood beside her. She hadn't heard the doctor come back. Quickly putting the photograph back into the compartment just above her heart, she was about to apologize about making Angela do when the woman should be resting. But Fareeha didn't get the chance.

The dragon roared within her. Feeling her hands ball into fists, Fareeha tried to get up before collapsing back into her cot. A train of Egyptian profanities and curses flowed from her mouth. "Talon! I never had the chance to be in Overwatch, but I certainly heard of their ...!" Fareeha gestured with her hands. No words came forth. "Work for Talon? Gods! What a sick joke!" Fareeha snorted at the thought of Talon being sincere. She groaned. "Angela. We're talking about an organization that double crosses. An organization that doesn't have any morals! How can we trust [i]that[/i]?"

Her blood boiled at the thought of those terrorists being in her country. Promising to aid her people though their promises were as fickle as an undecided youth. While the world struggled against the omnics, Talon never once aided the war effort. If anything, they took away from humanity's survival by their thefts, assassinations, and the other nefarious deeds they carried out. Did they even stand for anything? They were the antithesis of everything Fareeha stood for.

Fareeha sighed. Regardless, taking her anguish out on Angela was unfair. "... I'm sorry," Fareeha said. "Are there really Talon operatives here? Trucks of supplies? Did you see inside? I wouldn't be surprised if those trucks were empty."