♟
♟: Patching up a wound
She wouldn’t make a sound as the other girl pressed wet cloth into her skin, not for one second. Her eyes downcast, Ava gently breathed through her nose, chest rising and falling in silence. Fighting. All she could do these days was fight because she wasn’t good enough to be an instructor and she wasn’t good enough to be a goddamn leader, so she had to get her kicks somewhere. If anything, she was envious of the way her friend grew up in this faction, among these warriors that were strong, willing to play soldier.
Ava wasn’t, but she could act like it when needed to.
“I’ll be fine, Candice,” she quietly said finally, looking up with her black eye prominent now. “Y’don’t gotta stick ‘round for me.”











