[@Wick]

[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/VjghfrA.jpg?1[/img]

[color=#5F755E][h2]Sasha Belov[/h2][/color][/center]

Sasha ate his soup as he spoke to the Commander. The man seemed very sensible and put together; Sasha could easily respect him. He tried to pace himself as he ate, as to not make himself sick again. He was only just now starting to get over the illness that had struck him about a week ago. 

Once the commander left, Sasha finished up his bowl of soup and set it aside. He turned his legs around to hang them over the side of the bed, still generously covered by the blanket. 

"If you don't mind," He said to the girl, "I'd like to get dressed." His voice had a certain solemn sound to it now. After everything he'd been through, Sasha had yet to be given the proper time to grief the loss of his friends and the people he had come to think of as family. He had only just now been given the opportunity to rest and begin to heal, let alone take a moment to let it all sink in. Everyone he knew was either dad or lost out in the broken world. Those who had died were given a horrible death, with no reason or closure.