The soldier spluttered into full consciousness, tasting coppery blood on his lips. Agony rippled through his body and he closed his eyes against it. The sweat on his brow felt cool and the air he sucked in in ragged gasps was moist and fresh. He cracked an eye and took in his surroundings. The woodland was quiet, the mixing of dull earth and green leaves providing a false sense of peace. The sun peeked through the leaves of a nearby tree like a curious child, but its cheerful rays didn’t reach him.
The soldier had seen many woods but somehow this one seemed to be the most beautiful. He snorted at the thought and coughed, spraying crimson droplets from his mouth. His leather jerkin creaked as he lifted a hand from his hip. His palm was wet and scarlet and the jagged tear in his side was nauseating. He groaned as he recognised the wound to be fatal. The cavalry charge had cut through them like butter, he’d never stood a chance. He remembered crawling off the field into woods, but he couldn’t remember collapsing against the tree.
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