Young Writers Society

"I... I got into odd things before you met me. It's likely just me," he replies.

"Oh, you have no idea where I've been," she chuckles. "You might be surprised."

James turned his head slightly to look at Tasha. "...fair point."

"I made my way around a fair amount of crazy situations...Survived them all, somehow."

"Me too," murmured Tavis.

“That would explain, perhaps, how you found yourself here,” James replied to Tavis, and partially to Tasha.

“Though I am... sorry you have. Adventure, or what have you, isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Tavis. "And neither is war. It's . . . grueling business."

Tasha nods in agreement. "There can be honor in it, but it's nothing to be glorified."

James nodded, and sat still in a solemn silence, apart from the occasional shiver. As one who had not experienced war first hand, he refrained from speaking of things he did not truly know.

"So . . ." said Tavis. "Got any family?"

James closed his eyes, but responded. "Yes," he replied shortly. Following his words, the wind whistled again with a high-pitched screech, and a roar was hear within it. Though the sound was tossed about by the wind, it almost sounded like the source of the noise was coming closer, though still far off.

Tasha doesn't answer altogether.

"I have a younger brother," said Tavis quietly. "And my girl . . . she's one of the most important people in the world to me." He smiled slightly, an image of the woman he loved coming to mind. "I was hoping I could ask her to marry me, once the war is over. But, well, I don't even know how I'll get back home now."

She had a man like that once. Maybe they would've actually gotten engaged, given time - but the war took many lives, and she couldn't protect him, though gods knew she tried. Tasha just looks down in solemn silence. "Good luck, then."