She didn't have any trust in soldiers, especially German soldiers. Not after seeing how they treat others. They didn't care about her mother, they didn't care when the building caught on fire, they didn't care about pretty much anything. Well, besides themselves. She wondered if they would even fight for Germany if it didn't have incentives. If it didn't make themselves popular.
She wasn't sure if Americans were any different though. They walked around with superiority. They always took food and a lot of it. They didn't seem to care much about German resources dying out or the German civilians. They mostly just stood and watched for suspicious activity. But yet, they ate like they had been starving for years. She had even heard some complain about the food, showers, and water right in front of her. They were ungrateful and probably drank the night away too. They were also always boasting about American pride. It got annoying.
But maybe Daemon could be the one exception to her hate. She wasn't sure how to feel about him. He had the arrogance and pride like a soldier but that was generated by his own self-pride and not the pride of his status. She hadn't seen him drinking on the job and each time she looked into his eyes, they were clear and focused. He was probably not spending all his time drinking away like the German soldiers. Not to be mistaken, she never had a problem with drinking. It was borderline alcoholism that she had a problem with.
“I would consider myself stupid if I were to waste just as much money as they do on Jägermeister. That’s just because I have better taste compared to what they’re downing though.”
She raised an eyebrow toward him with surprise. She had not met a single person who didn't enjoy the popular German drink. She couldn't really make a comment on it, she had never had it. Or any drink really.
She smirked lightly about the comment he made toward her calling his almost thank yous cute. She did make a mental note of that but decided not to tease the American soldier further.
She did enjoy the conversation, she hadn't talked with anyone for equally as long. She surprised herself earlier by even being able to speak. Nobody really talked with her, she was an outsider. She still spent her free time reading her German to English book though. She had spent her time practicing the language to not forget it. It was the only possession of hers that she really had left. Well that and a golden locket with a picture of her mother and her. She kept it in her boots to guarantee that it wouldn't be stolen. Gold jewelry was a high price luxury these days. Somehow her boots were the only item on her body that wasn't falling apart. There were scratches on the leather and a few bullet holes but that was it.
As the conversation grew more serious, she had instinctively focused her gaze to the area around them. She was watching out for any signs of trouble. Contrary to her looks, she did know how to fight. She had learned it with a few other civilians during the beginning of the war. Those few other civilians she was pretty sure they either became soldiers or died. She also learned to be very cautious and to never let her gaurd down. However, if she had joined the chaos of the war, she saw herself being a medic more than anything. Medics were under-appreciated and didn't have soldier status benefits but it would still be a step up from her current status. However, she wouldn't be able to leave behind bloodied bodies of the "enemy" soldiers which is why she stayed a civilian and her status in society continued to experience a downfall.
“What’s stopping you from stealing for yourself? If that’s the label you’re stuck with, I don’t see why you don’t just embrace it. If I were in your shoes, I’d pride myself in becoming the most renown homeless robber on the streets of Berlin.”
She glanced at him and gave a half-heartened shrug. She did know the answer in her head but if he couldn't guess the answer then he was more of a fool than she thought. Fear was one thing; with crimes being the same punishment regardless of what crime was committed.There was just a lot of factors that played into it.
"You alone will be the death of you." she paused, her gaze finding where the moonlight shown into his at his mutters.
“You can’t pick and choose who lives, you don’t steal as much as I’m sure you probably could… I just don’t understand if it’s a set of morals you carry that’s truly stopping you, or if you’re afraid to find out what you’re capable of doing and becoming as a person.”
Her gaze went from his to the ground, feeling uncomfortable at his words. Apparently why she did things were more transparent as she thought they were. His words hit deeper than she realized. Thinking about it more, she couldn't even decide herself what was stopping her. She had always thought it was morals but now...she wasn't quite sure.
The smell of smoke caused her to look back up and she noticed that they were at his post, right next to the American food campsite. The building was nothing but ash and a few flames that had resparked. There was nobody in sight, not even a German soldier. Water was limited, they wouldn't have tried wasting it on a wooden structure. They probably didn't even bother to look for ashes. The flames had been so severe that anyone who wanted to escape, would have done so within 5 minutes. Any time past that, they were goners.
"This city used to be so beautiful. I wish you could have seen in then versus now," She sighed, studying the building and the area around it.
Fall 
Night 
Heavy Rain Moon: 
