In the Wake of Morning. Open.
Glazed optics saw nothing. With chest laying against tree and head tilted back towards endless blue, the figure looked like a broken doll. But she was human. In her eyes were reflected passing clouds and fickle, swaying leaves. Bird song filled the air, rising and falling like waves crashing against the silence of the forest, but the string-less marionette did not move, did not hear. Laying in her abandonment, the doll simply stared and saw nothing in particular. Strands of hair sometimes strayed into her blind vision, blown by a wandering breeze, but for the most part she was still.
Palms turned upwards behind her, she seemed to be reaching for the blades fallen beside her. A dot of red moved on the hilt: a ladybug. The scene, save for the bug and the breeze, remained unchanged. The doll's name was Petra. A finger twitched. The movement grew, moved from one finger to the next as if the body was checking just how many digits were still in working order. Palms opened and closed, startling the ladybug. Tears slid down still glazed eyes as breath inhaled the scent of wood and earth. Lips parting, moving in their dry state, Petra gasped. The doll was waking. She was waking. Blinking eyes saw lazy blue and heavy, sluggish clouds. The silence she had slept in was broken by trilling birds and the soft breath of wind. "I don't want to die." Paused thoughts played again and the confession broke her fully from the death-like state. Rolling off of the tree, the soldier sat on the grass. The eyes that had stared upwards for hours upon end without seeing so much as a thing were now trained at the grass. Teardrops fell and clung to the blades like dew. Memories woke and nightmares were relived. "I'm...so sorry." I failed you all.
