Wheeling Gull Isle i hate the air he breathes

His breath caught in his chest like a caged bird.

.. Again, tongue flicking over his nose, his single eye wide, the boy stared at the man. Both tired, both broken in their own ways.

Yes. He breathed, eyes rimmed with white.

I. I’ve been a soldier since I was able to spar. And before that, he understood his future, laid before him, regimented like a line of soldiers. Forever to serve, glory to Mereo.

He floundered without it. There was no glory in laying here, but it was all he could do.