Rogue never slept well, but some nights were better than others. The night in question was one of the better ones, with only a few mild nightmares haunting her slumber rather than the worst of the memories. On the bad nights, she woke up gasping a scream against the makeshift gag she stuffed in her mouth every night -- another reason she slept so far from the others.
The light of dawn woke her. For three years, she'd known only a world of harsh light and unforgiving metal, and so the stark different between night and day woke her every time, even from the deepest sleep. She woke quickly, though her mind felt foggy and she longed for a cup of coffee. The scent from the boiled semblance of the drink drifted over on the wind and she frowned at it.
After packing up her things, she moved closer to the fire pit, keeping a safe distance from the men but making sure it was a natural one. Reminding them all if how dangerous she was seemed like a bad idea.
"Good morning," she greeted softly, southern manners shining through regardless of the circumstance. Still, she cringed just a tiny bit, because it seemed like such a strange thing to say in the middle of a war zone.
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The light of dawn woke her. For three years, she'd known only a world of harsh light and unforgiving metal, and so the stark different between night and day woke her every time, even from the deepest sleep. She woke quickly, though her mind felt foggy and she longed for a cup of coffee. The scent from the boiled semblance of the drink drifted over on the wind and she frowned at it.
After packing up her things, she moved closer to the fire pit, keeping a safe distance from the men but making sure it was a natural one. Reminding them all if how dangerous she was seemed like a bad idea.
"Good morning," she greeted softly, southern manners shining through regardless of the circumstance. Still, she cringed just a tiny bit, because it seemed like such a strange thing to say in the middle of a war zone.