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Lubna nearly stifled a pleasant giggle when Jean made his remark about how quick the job would be done.

It was a weird thing to break her out of her focus but there it was. Despite his demeanor he had been deeply wounded by his experiences here and on whatever front he was dragged in from. His eyes a beautiful emerald green but a dulled emerald green nonetheless. She looked at him closely as he addressed other members of their assorted group, as she looked on at him. She ran a hand through her own hair as she looked at how beaten he appeared.

He needed a haircut. Did she as well? When was the last time she crossed a mirror and the thought about her own personal appearance came to mind? She had been fighting so long and her husband’s death had dragged a lot out of her vigor and sense from her soul. What struck her with even more surprise was to see spritely, confident members that shared her gender. Maybe it was less rare than it was back home? A thought to ponder, but she supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised given the lengths this war was going from both sides. If you could point a rifle you were good enough, should you survive the endeavor that was war. “The Silence has not stirred, there in the heather.” She recalled in her mind.

[color=997D68]“May I ask if [i]you[/i] are well, ser?”[/color] She commented, reflecting on Jean’s smile, unconvincing and contrived. [color=997D68]“You look pale.”[/color]

Jean looked more than pale, but Lubna was being polite.





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