Ana & Cat & Open
Ana was thrown from her sitting position, ending up sprawled on the floor of the tent. Shrapnel cut at her exposed skin, but at least it wasn't silver. She'd heal and most of the wounds likely wouldn't even scar. She shook her head to clear her own ringing ears, trying to concentrate on what Catherine was saying. Thoughts of Thorsten, Callum, Marco and Althea, they all raced through her head, but the second she stepped outside, she'd be a target.
"Fuck 'em straight to hell," she muttered, peering out of a small rip in the side of the tent.