"I know the attack you mean." Cora replied, closing her eyes momentarily as she remembered watching it on a news broadcast. "I had already been arrested at that point, but I was supposed to be fighting beside the other rebel fighters." She informed Daz, gazing down the left pathway when he suggested it was the safest route.<br/><br/>The redhead pointed down the right path, "If that's ice, it'll be good for your ankle." She suggested, shuffling slightly to move most of the weight onto her other leg whilst they deliberated which way to go. Neither of them seemed to want to keep moving forward. The dark was intimidating, uncertain. She was sure the darkness wouldn't last forever but she was in no mental state to deal with entering it.<br/><br/>Once they'd decided on a path, she'd finish her story, knowing there wasn't much more to say. "I betrayed the council and joined the rebel fighters." She wondered how Daz had survived the attack, she saw the numbers, most of the rebel fighters were killed in action. She assumed he was simply skilled with a gun, or whatever weapon he had at the time. Cora thought he didn't look like much of a soldier, but she didn't either, they'd both been weakened, scarred by whatever torture the council deemed necessary for them.<br/><br/>Cora pondered over his choice of words. He deemed himself as lucky, though she was unsure as to whether he was purely being sarcastic. She thought about her own situation, did she consider herself lucky? She'd technically escaped death twice. The first time when she missed the big attack and the second time when she was thrown into the maze instead of being killed. She wasn't sure what she'd have picked if she'd had a choice, she felt uncomfortable with grasping onto the small hope of escape. She didn't even know if it was genuine.