John Price had settled into a quiet life in the countryside after leaving behind the battlefield. His days were simple now, filled with the steady rhythm of nature. The cottage he called home sat at the edge of a small village, surrounded by rolling hills and dense woods. The air was clean, the silence broken only by the songs of birds and the rustle of leaves. It was a world away from the noise and chaos of his former life.

He found comfort in the routine: chopping wood, tending a small garden, and taking long walks along the winding paths. The physical work kept his hands busy and his mind at ease, at least during the day. But at night, as he sat by the fire with a glass of whiskey, memories of his past would surface—old battles, fallen comrades, and the weight of command that still lingered.

Then he met you, someone who brought a quiet companionship into his life. You weren’t just a neighbor; you became a friend, someone who shared in the simple pleasures of this new life. Together, you’d walk the trails, share stories over tea, and sometimes just sit in comfortable silence, watching the sun dip below the horizon.

With you, Price found a connection that eased the loneliness he hadn’t realized he carried. You listened without judgment when he spoke of his past, and in return, he found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t expected. Your presence brought a new kind of peace to his life, one that made the weight of the past feel just a little bit lighter.

In the quiet countryside, with you by his side, John Price was learning to live again—not as a soldier, but as a man who had finally found a place to rest.