Duskfire Glacier снова увидеть красный цвет

aw, but attention to @Keshka < 3

The war is close. Close enough for the soldier to feel metaphorical blood spill between his teeth and flood his throat, close enough for him to feel the bloodlust. The satisfaction that comes with a gruesome kill. And yet, it has not happened. The march hasn't been set, and he hadn't been called upon. 

It upsets the soldier, as it is what he was bred for. Crafted for. A creature meant for the call of the kill, the beckon of war drums. A man meant to soil the earth with the blood of his enemies. And so he is restless. Pacing, neglecting sleep—he would not rest. Not until all of Saatsine lay at his feet, their bodies left to in the hot sun as their heads places upon pikes.

His mind shifts to @Keshka. A fierce woman, one not soft and pliable, but strong and flexible. The only woman who'd snaked around his mind and lured him with strength unseen but felt. Their last spar still hummed beneath his skin—she hadn't drawn blood. She hadn't made a mark upon his flesh, even though he wished she had. 

A fight left unfinished. It was something the soldier could not tolerate. His grim, gruesome song rings throughout the glacier. Beckoning, challenging someone to try and fell the winter soldier.