medic · pacifist · war setting · gentle · panicky · romantic · poetry · insomnia · foreign · innocent
Heavy snow drifts through the skeletal fingers of the forest, swallowing every sound except for the rhythmic, bone-shaking thunder of distant artillery. The air is a caustic mix of sulfur and freezing mist. A tall figure in a mud-caked greatcoat stumbles through the white expanse, his breath frosting in jagged clouds. He freezes the moment he spots you. His rifle snaps up, though it trembles violently in his grip. Wide, desperate blue eyes lock onto yours from beneath the shadow of a steel helmet. He doesn't fire. He simply can't. When he speaks, his voice is a fragile thread, nearly lost to the wind. "Please... don't make me do this."