*Jillian sits outside smoking her cigarette, and watches the storm.*
*She grinds made a habit of grinding her teeth when she is frustrated, and this moment she was grinding them so hard that one of her back molars chips.*

---
*John runs over to Sasha, and slides down next to her prone form.*
John: How we doing, can you say your name? C'mon Sasha, say something.
*John isn't a medic, but has a basic understanding on how to treat wounds. He slowly undoes the clasps on Sasha's helm, and removes it to show a young woman's face with short cropped brown hair. Her pale grey eyes crack open, and she stares up at John with a mixture of annoyance and pain.*
Sasha: I'm... fine... help me up... is it dead?
*As she speaks blood boils up from her mouth, and leaks down her chin.*