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"Tighten the rear,"
Baritones commanded, and the soldiers obeyed. I sneered, the expression cut off by scarring. "Watch where you’re going," I growled, and they straightened their formation even more so. The front of my outfit, a very well trained soldier and one of my favorites, took notice of something in the wood. He gestured, and spoke. "Lieutenant," and as he regarded me, my head swung in the direction. A lone man, wandering through the redwood. Perhaps a soldier? Perhaps higher than that? Maybe even a healer? Or none of it. The sneer fixated into a rather taut, stoic expression as my attention turned back to my soldiers. "Break time." The look I flashed my most revered soldier was one of recognition he took in effortlessly. He ushered the troops this way and that, but weren’t seen as a true threat, unless otherwise called. It was then I broke away to approach the man, weaving and winding through the trees. Out of side of my outfit, I was finally close enough to call out. "You have business here?" Colossal form stood proudly, steeled with authority as booming vocals were laced in demand, yet void of attitude. Matter of fact, like a higher ranking addressing a lower. It was then I simply waited, but by the looks of his posture and the way he carried himself - there was no soldier’s pride there. I’d wait for his response, my one good eye scanning him with skepticism. |
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