Snow walks into the room, her long read hair flowing down her back. Her green eyes dart around, fear still on her face. With shaking knees the girl nears War, a bottle of red wine in her hand. The girl kneels slowly at the feet of the man. With a look of fear, rather than submission, she extends her arms up to him. Her slender fingers warped around the bottle as she holds it up. The bruises from the men that had her before War still cover her soft skin.