Behind the Wooden Door
“It had been three days since I had seen Tristan, but it was three days too many. I had paced around my room, walked past the camp repeatedly, and almost gotten the courage to come see him. To check on his shoulder only, of course. We needed him to win this war.
I made my way toward my father’s best friend’s daughter, Scarlett Dyn. She bent over a wounded man and wrapped a white cloth around his forehead. Blood splattered her yellow hair and pastel dress, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her o...nly concern was to try to save the men that lied around her.
“Do you need help?” I asked her.
She nodded her tearstained face and pointed to a bottle of clear liquid.
“Hand me that,” she said.
I grabbed the half empty bottle off the ground and placed it in her outstretched hand. She thanked me and turned her attention to the next soldier. Her voice sounded dreamlike when she apologized for the burning he would soon feel.MoreLess
I made my way toward my father’s best friend’s daughter, Scarlett Dyn. She bent over a wounded man and wrapped a white cloth around his forehead. Blood splattered her yellow hair and pastel dress, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her o...nly concern was to try to save the men that lied around her.
“Do you need help?” I asked her.
She nodded her tearstained face and pointed to a bottle of clear liquid.
“Hand me that,” she said.
I grabbed the half empty bottle off the ground and placed it in her outstretched hand. She thanked me and turned her attention to the next soldier. Her voice sounded dreamlike when she apologized for the burning he would soon feel.MoreLess
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