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So I’ve learned to forgive these poor fellows, who never could’ve saved me even if they had known I still had a heartbeat.He was left there, in the unnatural stillness of no man’s land but for the buzzing of insects. Even wind dare not touch the sickly green/grey air, still smelling of the toxic gas of the last chemical attack. The flattened, dead space had only one visitor that day - a reaper.Somewhere far from there, in an in-between place, clear of the smell and darkness of the battlefield, the Reaper offered the dead man a proposition. It was no more than a soft hum within him, but he understood every word and quickly accepted. As they all do when given the chance of eternal life while inching closer to the jaws of death.And just like that, he was once again returned to the blood soaked ground beneath him, his body flooded with a horrendous pain, making him cry out from the joy of it.As days turned into weeks while recovering at first in a field hospital and then a real one in. That would laugh and smile with eyes demurely lowered despite the vixen’s glint that would light them. Now, all she was good for was opening the flap of her Master’s tent when someone wished to enter. An amazingly gentle tap of a boot against her thigh, all but tore her from her little world of self hate. She had been so engrossed in her own thoughts that she had not even heard the steps of this man approach, and moved quickly to gather the bright material from the entrance. Tangling herself further in the hefty links of chain which kept her bound before the tent. Still delicately shaped fingers, trembling lightly in fear of recrimination for her mistake as they clutched the flap. He didn’t move. Swallowing against the building lump in her throat, she dared to peek up at this new guest through thick mats of tangles and dirt. Silhouetted by the angle of the harvest sun, she could not make out any features of his face, whether he was angered or simply observing was lost in dark.
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