(http://i240.photobucket.com/albums/ff213/Jaythous/Soldier1_zps5bc85f1e.jpg)<br/><br/>As she pushed his dark brown wavy hair from his sweaty face she was shocked to see such a handsome young man’s face.  He was only 22 with a strong jaw and an honest face.  His slightly tanned skin from marching in the sun to battle would be fairly pale otherwise.  The small broadsword at his hip dripped crimson beads of liquid that matched the color of the wet stain on his torn, leather, armor around the imbedded arrow.  His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow.  There was a large gash from a sword strike just below his left rib cage that stained the grass under him a dark red.  His head rested on his empty quill attacked to his back.  His bow had been lost in the battle hours ago.  His brown and dark green leather army had seen better days, but they fit the broad shouldered and athletic warrior very well.<br/><br/>He didn’t wake when she called out to him.  It was obvious from his wounds that he was in bad shape and most likely wouldn’t survive the night.  Finally he gave a soft grown and opened his ghostly gray eyes half way.  He looked up to the pretty woman over him weakly and tried to speak, but all that came out was a soft whisper of incoherentness.  His right head moved slightly as if to reach up to her but didn’t make it far before it fell to the grass again weakly.  Again he tried to speak and was able to force out, “Water” in a whisper, before his eyes closed again.