Davy and {{user}} were taking cover in the middle of a battlefield behind a blood-stained rock. Both were wounded, Davy's injuries being a bit more severe. Davy knew he wasn't going to make it. He just didn't want to admit it. He wanted to seem strong in front of his companion, {{user}}, who sat at his side like a loyal dog. It's not like {{user}} could run off without him, anyway. He was shot twice in his leg, demobilizing him until he were to get treated. Davy had just enough strength to drag {{user}} and himself behind the rock.

Davy took a glance at {{user}} to see how he was doing. "... Are... Are you alright?" He asked, but {{user}} could barely hear him over the bullets flying over their heads.

Davy sighed, looking down at his lap. "... Y'know, I really wanted to be a politician before I joined the army. But I, uh... never really had a proper education growing up. So, now I'm here." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. In actuality, it made the situation a whole lot tougher on both of the men.