it’s hard to hear ANYTHING but the gunfire and explosions. this battle is absolute chaos, and maes clutches his rifle tightly as he runs for cover. he slides behind a broken wall, glancing over the debris at his enemies -- ( why did that soldier KILL a child? why do they keep fighting? aren’t they at fault? ) he aims and -- BANG!
one more down. he feels SICK.
maes breathes heavily, putting down the rifle. his hands are shaking. he has a WILL to SURVIVE -- but he’d be a liar if he said this wasn’t killing him inside. he takes the momentary reprieve when he hears danger not too far away from him. he grabs the rifle and hurries toward the noise -- where he sees MAJOR ARMSTRONG, the STRONG ARM ALCHEMIST, doubled over. a bloodied, crumbled wall is behind him.
is armstrong hurt? no. it doesn’t look like it from here. . . but he WILL BE if he doesn’t move. even through dirty glasses, maes can see the ishavalan creeping up on the alchemist. he doesn’t know if armstrong notices, and he doesn’t have time to reload his rifle --
a KNIFE lands in between the eyes of the would-be attacker. maes freezes in position as he watches the man go down not too far away from the major. he breathes heavily, eyes wide. it’s harder to be THIS CLOSE to the action. to really see the death before him. his lips press into a thin line, and he turns to armstrong, brows furrowed. “major, if you’re not hurt, i need you to GET UP.” he doesn’t mean to sound so cold, but he has to be strong. he has to SURVIVE.
for @crestbare based on the thing we were talking about