Holding that sharp dagger of yours, walking slow as your chest rose and fell slowly. Eyes bloodshot and uniform soaked in the enemies blood as your boots left imprints in the dirt. The dust and fog mixing in the battlefield you walked across.

Roach, running with the rest of the 141. He came across you, seeing you limp and just walk straight made him a little uneasy, he quickly pulled his handkerchief out and poured a liquid onto it, sneaking up behind you to try and knock you out.