<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf0000">Nadira didn't know what she did to deserve to be taken prisoner by the American troops. She translated for them for months, and while they were never overly friendly she had assumed they knew she was trustworthy. But when the attack occurred she was held as a prisoner, and told they feared she would inform the rebels of their strategies. Now she found herself grouped with other women, surrounded by the armed soldiers as they prodded them through the city. <br/>
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Unlike many of the other women she didn't flinch when the guns went off, her dark brown eyes glued straight ahead of them as they advanced. Her jaw was clenched firmly shut and she stared ahead, moving reluctantly forward with the other captive women into the secured building. <br/>
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It was obvious to even the casual onlooker what race Nadira was. She made no effort to hide it like the other women in town. Her hair was still a dark brown, not artificially lightened through dye or bleach, and her clothing closely resembled the traditional kimono her people wore years ago. It was a deep red, plainly cut, with two long slits up the sides to reveal the more western style pants she wore underneath, an alteration she was grateful for to preserve her modesty when running. <br/>
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Nadira moved as far back as the women were allowed, and leaned heavily against the wall as the commander spoke to his troops. Her expression darkened briefly when he spoke of her wishing to 'thank' the soldiers for saving them, a brief narrowing of her eyes before her expression smoothed once more. His tone left no doubt in her mind exactly what kind of 'thanking' he aimed to receive, and the thought of letting her body be used by these soldiers only served to leave a bad taste in the back of her mouth. But she stayed silent, and perfectly still. If one of the soldiers wanted her attention she knew better than to protest, but she was not foolish enough to draw it onto herself.</span><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#8000ff">Teyha bowed her head as she slunk into the abandoned building, and immediately sought out a dark corner to crouch down in. She curled up there, letting down heavy pack on her shoulders as quietly as she could manage. She just sat in the dust for a few long moments, listening as Spaight addressed the troops. It did not escape her that he spoke kindly to only the men, addressing them alone before turning his attention to Ghost. <br/>
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Everyone seemed to blame the attack on Ghost, since she left her post... But... There was no doubt in Teyha's mind that the woman had heard a noise, and wasn't it in her job to investigate anything suspicious? What if it had been an enemy scout looking for weak points in their defense, was she supposed to stand there and listen to him sneak around? This was a war, standing idly by would get people killed, she did what she thought was best in that situation,and that was all there was to it, in Teyha's mind. <br/>
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Still she winced at the exchange between Ghost and Parker, muffling a sigh as she shook her head sadly. Parker had every right to be mad, his girlfriend was slaughtered in the attack, and he needed someone to blame. Ghost was the easy choice. But when he stood, and pulled out his knife, Teyha jumped to her feet with a yelp, taking a few rushed steps forward despite her better judgement.Te fight ended before it began, but Teyha's eyes were still wide, and glued on Parker. "I'll help with dinner, I am a decent enough cook." She mumbled, dropping her eyes to the ground. "Just tell me what to do."</span>