Brie stormed out of the General's private command tent. The heavy white canvas flap fell shut behind her. The bright, hot morning sun immediately hit her face, making her squint.
Brie walked quickly across the dusty ground of the military camp. Her leather shoes stomped hard against the dry dirt. She was clutching the cracked ceramic bowl very tightly against her chest. Her face was completely twisted into a dark, ugly scowl. Her breathing was heavy and fast.
She was completely furious. She felt deeply humiliated.
Brie mumbled angrily on her way as she walked back toward the medical tents.
"Who does she think she is?" Brie whispered harshly through her gritted teeth. She glared at the ground, kicking a small rock out of her path.
She thought about Camilla sitting so comfortably in the General's chair. She thought about the cold, threatening look in the young woman's dark eyes.
