"...Life is very beautiful." - unprompted
@childempress
"Depends on who you ask," Ben muttered. He hadn't meant to be so kneejerk in his response, so jaded, but these days, it was getting harder and harder to see the beauty in anything.
As the years passed, war had ravaged his thoughts and plagued them, eating away at his mental supports until they became loose and warped, much like rotted floorboards. Things fell apart. He knew that – he’d seen that, and yet he couldn’t accept that it could possibly be happening to his very own soul. The destruction made Ben feel ugly, and he never felt uglier than in the heart of winter. With nature reflecting the death and decay on the battlefield, how could he possibly find hope in the Cause? He believed in it – he knew he did, and yet there was always that one small seedling of doubt. It was a noxious, fertile seed, and each spring, he stamped it out with the thaw.
“Where are your parents?” he finally asked, looking to the girl with concern. “It’s freezing outside. You shouldn’t be here without accompaniment.”
Ben, himself, was warmed with whiskey so that his self-pitying nature walk could continue undisturbed.
