Their eyes met for an instant, Chloe found the bit of compassion she was expecting from Oswald, in Laurel's kind gaze.
"I'm doing fine, thanks." She said, dusting off her clothes. Her kick landed in the prisoner's tummy, she was giving the man that often attacked her a piece of her mind.
Standing near torture devices was a harsh challenge for the redhead, so he decided to focus on the yellow flower that swore more than most soldiers. The heat of the battlefield was long gone, but his hunger was claiming more and more space over his thoughts each time he saw the red colour. He couldn't avoid it, even his hair was a menace to his sanity.
