(ooc: So, this take place a hour or so from this post. Open to any members of the Immortal Flames that wish to give their condolences to John's Captain, offers to take Sam out to get good and drunk after he's finish with writing letters to the mens families, looking for John, or to check on how the injury Captain is doing.)
Sam Robinton stares at the first of the three letters that he would be writing to the families today. This was probably the hardest part of the job, expressing the sorrow and lost that they would...that all of them were experiencing today and over the coming weeks. He already made sure that barring the world ending, his own men would have the time to grieve for the lost of their brothers, and the three healers from his unit were resting...
He look over the miqo'te sleeping in the chair, though the sleep wasn't restful, if the whimpers coming from the sleeping figure was right. "John," he said, watching one ear turn to his direction. "I'm ok, John...I'm right here..."
John's face relax though it still show pain from the injuries that he took. He turn his head, the left side still bandage from the sword that try to take the kid's eye. Sam found it a bit ironic that he took the wound on the same side as he taken the slap from Mrs. Waterstrike. The boot was remove to show off the bandage that was wrap around the calf, where an arrow had hit home. He should pull rank and send the kid to a healer. He snort to himself, John wasn't a kid anymore, not after being bath in the fire of battle. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to do that at the moment.
"Still, love," Sam said, turning to one of the two pictures on his desk. His finger ran across face of the young red hair woman. "Can't help but still think of him as that kid that follow us everywhere, asking the others for stories of their adventures." He let his eyes slid over to the other picture, a picture of two lalafells, a Hellsguard, himself, the young woman from the other picture, and a younger John, grinning as he sat in front of their group. "We're the last of our group, Tanya. And as much as I love you, I'm not ready yet to sit at Thal's table with you."
Sam stretch, wincing himself as his half heal leg shifted, reminding him that he still had letters to finish and send out. Picking up the quail again he bent back over the letters that he was writing.
Sam Robinton stares at the first of the three letters that he would be writing to the families today. This was probably the hardest part of the job, expressing the sorrow and lost that they would...that all of them were experiencing today and over the coming weeks. He already made sure that barring the world ending, his own men would have the time to grieve for the lost of their brothers, and the three healers from his unit were resting...
He look over the miqo'te sleeping in the chair, though the sleep wasn't restful, if the whimpers coming from the sleeping figure was right. "John," he said, watching one ear turn to his direction. "I'm ok, John...I'm right here..."
John's face relax though it still show pain from the injuries that he took. He turn his head, the left side still bandage from the sword that try to take the kid's eye. Sam found it a bit ironic that he took the wound on the same side as he taken the slap from Mrs. Waterstrike. The boot was remove to show off the bandage that was wrap around the calf, where an arrow had hit home. He should pull rank and send the kid to a healer. He snort to himself, John wasn't a kid anymore, not after being bath in the fire of battle. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to do that at the moment.
"Still, love," Sam said, turning to one of the two pictures on his desk. His finger ran across face of the young red hair woman. "Can't help but still think of him as that kid that follow us everywhere, asking the others for stories of their adventures." He let his eyes slid over to the other picture, a picture of two lalafells, a Hellsguard, himself, the young woman from the other picture, and a younger John, grinning as he sat in front of their group. "We're the last of our group, Tanya. And as much as I love you, I'm not ready yet to sit at Thal's table with you."
Sam stretch, wincing himself as his half heal leg shifted, reminding him that he still had letters to finish and send out. Picking up the quail again he bent back over the letters that he was writing.
Characters
Kestlona Guhtgeiswyn's Page
John Waterstrike's Page
Tumblr:Â Tanya Waterstrike
Tumblr: John Waterstrike
[url=https://www.tumblr.com/blog/tanyawaterstrike][/url]
