The Wistful Dinner
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that blurred the edges of the world and turned the mud of the training grounds into a sucking, brown paste that held the boots of the men like a jealous lover holding onto a departing lover, and it was in this damp, suffocating quiet that Sergeant Elias Thorne stood by the window of the briefing room, watching the water run in...
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