[ the sweet, sickening scent of his blood in the air would normally make her nauseous but every sense feels numbed in the post-adrenaline haze. it drives out the remainder of the thick, smokey smell of burning flesh and hair and bone that had found a home in her nasal cavity like an infection.

she lifts her shirt up without a hint of hesitation or embarrassment when he silently asks her to. the bruising here is focused on the upper abdomen, her rips and stomach spotted in browns and deep, ugly greens. breathing deeply causes mild discomfort but it could have been worse. she's thankful nothing was broken. ]

You don't know that. [ she says bluntly but not unkindly. ] We don't know what they can do. They got us here, didn't they? And we don't know how far they're willing to go for their god.