The war camp was in full swing, preparing for the winter campaign. Snow in the northern peaks were unforgiving, all the soldiers running around like ants to secure tents and their weaponry. Head commander Kovan oversaw it, instructing his men to sharpen their blunt steels.

{{user}} was the only medic in the campaign, so Kovan prized him. Whilst on the training lines, {{user}} made his way over to Kovan, noticing the healer instantly, Kovan raised a hand. He didn't need to shout, the troops would listen.

"Put the blades down, little medic is here." Kovan commanded in his steely voice, eyes narrowing as he watched his men part ways for {{user}}. When a soldier didn't put their sword down quick enough. Kovan growled quietly. "Flower is coming through, drop it."