Blacktail Deer Plateau disasterpiece

@Croft >: )

mercenaries rarely slept and V was hardly an exception, less exhaustion cling heavy in his bones. difficult to let his guard down, even harder to let sleep take him. but as the sun sets and the night creeps in, the need is visceral. encompassing. 

he tucks himself against a boulder, his back secured against the stone, offering some semblance of security. for hours he lay there, tired eyes scanning the horizon. watching, waiting for threats that never come. 

sleep claims him with the droop of heavy eyelids. a yawn, a stretch. only when he's comfortable and sprawled out does he let himself drift off.