A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as the commander spoke. Though Ava knew first hand that he had a firm ass, but she was more amused that he didn’t rise above the childish chatter and instead addressed the rumors that fueled the recruit’s judgement. She believed that he would stop there, but he went on to offer them some perspective on their perceptions of her. As he moved down the walkway between the rows of beds where the recruits stood at attention, she watched from the door, the amused grin gone. It was not her preference to be likened to a rabid dog, or objectified for her looks, but her actions in the past had warranted such opinions. Still, it felt like a fall from grace. In her old life she was respected by her peers, known for being a disciplined and intelligent, and a source of knowledge. At the compound, she was hardly a step above the fresh meat. It didn’t mean that she didn’t plan on exploiting the belief that she was a vicious attack dog, and she was happy to demonstrate when the commander prompted her to.<br/><br/>He paused before the very soldier who repeated the rumor, and she watched as he addressed him, John Hathem, the poor guy. His brow immediately created beads of sweat as he was under the intense spotlight that was the commander’s attention. Ava waited till he was through addressing the recruit to move down the walkway. She stood toe to toe with Hathem, who was tall enough to see clear over her head and not know she was there, but he could feel her presence, and probably saw her in his periphery as she made her way over to him. For her to strike him in the face, she needed to bring him down to her level.<br/><br/>In an abrupt and powerful movement, her fist collided with his gut, forcing the air to expel from his lungs. Hathem doubled over, his arms wrapping around his stomach instinctively. The very second she could reach him, she slapped him across the face. The sound of her hand making contact with his cheek was akin to the crack of a whip. Since he essentially repeated a rumor that made her sound like a bitch, she hit him like one. Quiet snickers joined the sound of Hathem’s wincing and coughing, but they quickly ceased the moment she cast a glare in their direction. She didn’t really want to have hit anyone else, but she would . . . because it felt good. Ava didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was definitely a departure from how she first started out, too docile to want to harm anyone.<br/><br/>The other recruit, Bradley, was just as nervous—especially after seeing his comrade standing at attention, trying to regain his breath and sporting a handprint on his cheek. Considering he could have said much worse, he was spared her wrath. He was not spared her icy glare. Ava joined the commander where he stood, looking at the recruits who would no doubt be on their best behavior now that introductions were out of the way, or at least she hoped so.