"How is noone bothered by this?" Lily demanded, and pushed herself out of the elevator, shoving her elbow into the creeoy man as she went. She positioned herself at the front of the crowd, staring Simon straight in the eye. Courtesy and respect be damned, she wanted an answer.
Maybe she wouldn't have minded as a child. Maybe she would've been excited to fall in love, have a baby, raise a family, but now...she could never condone bringing a child into this world, where the light was hazy, water had to be triple-purified before it was drinkable, and dragons roamed all over.
"I want an answer, sir," she hissed, her tiny, scarred hands curling into fists, "Or should I ask Professor Pompous here?" she jerked her head at Areev and sneered. She was obviously sore at the fact that Simon would just allow this man to waltz in and take over his class, no questions asked. No doubt he would spew some scientific garbage about dragons being the root of all evil, and how they needed to be exterminated. They were dangerous, of course, but it wasn't as though they killed for the sake of killing. They killed to stay alive, much like humans.
And how did the all-knowing scientists expect to make the dragons disappear, exactly? Lily would bet her right arm that they wanted to train and use youths like her and Richard. The thought was almost humorous. She could just see it now; Richard, in desert army fatigues, clutching a gun and being snarky about some order he'd just been given. He'd stand completely still in the middle of the battlefield, open his mouth to philosophize something, then get promptly burnt to a crisp.
Thinking of Richard was enough to tick Lily off all over again. He seemed to be enjoying some stupid conversation with the intruder; the two were exchanging equally witty (and obnoxious) one-liners, their egos wrestling for dominance. A girl near the back, some blonde, looked horrified. Her pretty, made-up eyes were wide and her little nose was wrinkling, her tresses giving off an unnatural sheen. Lily had to suppress a scoff at the sight; was there nothing better to do with her time than to smear horrid products on her face? Simon, one of the few she actually looked up to, had dismissed her, bruising her pride and honor. Noone else seemed to notice, or at least pretended not to care. Had they all lost their minds?
Instinctively, one hand dove into her pocket, seeking her lucky charm, a stone arrowhead. Twirling it through and around her fingers, she prayed its unyielding strength would harden her resolve. She focused her gaze on Simon again, and furrowed her brow.
"Is it true. Sir." It wasn't a question anymore. She wanted an answer. And damned if she wouldn't get one.