Nikodem sighed shakily at the General’s response, and he averted his eyes from the cold man after a few moments. He swallowed firmly, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself further as his mind threatened to spiral into another bout of panic.<i>Your usefulness will have a direct effect on how you are treated here. How long you live. </i>That certainly wasn’t comforting. What sort of usefulness was Vahit speaking of? Was he meant to assist in healing? Or was he supposed to simply allow himself to be used as a toy, a mere slave to be fucked and abused by the Alrian soldiers? Neither option sounded particularly pleasant, if he was being honest, as either way he’d be made to stick around and live, or survive, amongst the northern brutes.<br/><br/><i>Just remember the south, Niko. Remember your brother and that sweet, sweet girl. </i><br/><br/>Niko huffed softly as he was pulled up to his feet in a manner that while not unkind wasn’t exactly pleasant or comforting either. He stumbled along just behind Malta, bracing against the cold that battered his frail body as soon as they’d exited the decently warmed tent to retreat to Malta’s own quarters. He clung tightly to the larger male’s sleeve as he struggled to keep up with his clipped pace, ad he simultaneously tried to ignore the feeling of eyes boring into him from ever side. The prying gazes in and of themselves were enough to make a man break were he exposed to them long enough, but luckily it wasn’t too expansive of a time before they found themselves within the confines of another tent.<br/><br/>Malta’s living spaces was much smaller than Vahit’s, but as Niko glanced around he found that he actually preferred the close quarters. For one they were cozier, and in a way they reminded him of his own little corner store home. He also found that the interior of Malta’s little tent was considerably warmer than Vahit’s larger one, as there was less space for the single fire pit to heat up. Niko settled down next to said fire pit when he was sat there, and he hugged his knees in close to his chest, resting his chin down upon them as he gazed into the flame. He flinched slightly as Malta spoke, breaking apart the silence that had grown between them. He glanced over at the man, and was silent for a short while.<br/><br/>“I could tell … But then I don’t believe he’d have been particularly pleased with me no matter what I said, seeing as I have nothing more to say,” he finally responded before resting his chin back upon his knees and shifting his eyes back onto the firepit. He sighed heavily in response to the man’s observation, thought this time as Niko spoke he didn’t tear his gaze from the flames.<br/><br/>“Yes, I was held down and carved some time ago … By one of my own. My mother, actually, and a priest,” he murmured in a forlorn tone. “This little half smile I’ve been gifted is the mark of an outcast, a child rejected by their more powerful parent.” He didn’t mention the fact that the more powerful of his parents was in fact a divine being. He wasn’t sure if the Alrian’s believed in such things as divinity, as he’d not been able to stay within the education system for long enough to learn much of anything about their culture. “I believe it’s the reason the little girl I was caring for was so sick. She had a similar cut, and I believe it to have obtained some sort of odd infection … Or perhaps it weakened her immune system enough that she caught some sort of illness,” he murmured thoughtfully, figuring the information was of little to no importance. The chatting wasn’t exactly pleasant for him, but he figured it would work in ways of stalling the fucking that seemed rather imminent. Malta’s next words affirmed that fact.<br/><br/>“No, I can honestly say that I have not … The only time I’ve ever seen any Alrian’s up close was when I was tasked with cutting their bodies down from trees after they’d been hanged in the slums,” he said coolly, curling his toes into the furs beneath him.