May 22, 2021
SMOKE AND ASH fill the air. Were he encumbered by the need to breathe, he might have suffered. As it is, his eyes pierce the haze, scanning what remains for those left behind, souls in need of escorting. Another day, another battlefield, another swathe of dead and dying warriors to see safely to their afterlives. It’s noble work, he finds, even if distant parts of his angelic self ache with pain for these men. Most of them were far too young.
The wind shifts. The haze thins. He senses movement. He’s not alone. @buckytm