Errond Station|Drafting Selection|8:43 AM
The air was stifling and uncomfortably warm. The scent of sweat and general odors hung in the air like a cloud, choking Lucretia's other senses. She pulled her collar over her nose, breathing in her own scent of flour and strawberries, mixed with that undeniable twinge of iron that came with blood. It comforted her, if only a little bit.
Lucretia dropped the fabric, but her smell lingered in her nose. A man bumped into her and she shifted uncomfortably. There were too many people jammed into the small station, each hand clinging to a ticket and another piece of paper with the word SUMMONS printed in large red letters. Soldiers would have been more fitting... she thought absently as she tucked back a piece of her short violet hair. In the dark light of the underground station, it looked black and almost shadow like. "Western Combat Unit Six." Lucretia's ears perked up and she turned towards the burly man that had said the number. "Car 14."
He began rattling off names, but Lucretia already knew what Unit she was in and now, she knew where she was supposed to go. She turned to the taller boy next to her. Only a year older in age. "My Lord, I believe that is us," she said in a curt and quiet tone. The announcer had already moved on to the next Combat unit and she could see a few people filtering towards Car 14. If they missed their train, they would be put on the front lines without training. Thus was the law of Tilt. "Shall we go?" she offered him a small, but tentative smile. To most, it would be considered "polite".