Nova's legs felt weak. Her stomach ached and she fought the urge to throw up. Her mind was in jumbles. All the memories she fought to suppress were only being kept at bay by a thin barrier.
Nova closed her eyes. Stumbling backward, she fell onto her knees and began crying uncontrollably. At this time the men responsible for the bodies spotted her.
One of the men yelled out and three of the men broke off from their large group by the main source of the fire.
As the men came closer, more details were visible. The men had on a brown uniform not too unlike the green men.
They shouldered large rifles and their waists held many curious items. Nova was not in the mood to be curious though.
The struggled to find her breath. The long days of little food and shelter had worn her out.
Her small frame was not made for this type of strain.
Altho she frequently went out with her father to hunt, she had always come home after an hour or so. Her father would always go back out without her once she was dropped off.
There were many cuts and bruises all over her body and her foot ached where she had fallen. Her long black hair was matted with dried blood and her clothes were stained with soot.
Additionally, her hand was wrapped in a bloody cloth. She had torn a large portion of her dress away to use as a bandage and now it barely reached her knees.
Her skin was pink and raw where it had been burned along her back. The pink flesh poked up around her neck. The wound was starting to scab up.
The soldiers did not relent when they say her state but they did question her a bit softer. These men were trained in the military.
They had killed many a woman or child. The thing was that this child must have come from one of the nearby villages.
This would mean that this child was not an enemy. Remember they were in the military, not a murder club.