Allen finished the last of the soup and set the empty bowl down. The decision was made. He would play their game, at least for a while, and see how things turned out.
He stood up, stretching his arms to relax his body a little.
He decided to not waste any more time and to tell Lishia his answer right away. He started walking toward the command tent in the center of the camp.
As he walked, his eyes fell on a smaller campfire off to the side. A group of four soldiers sat around it as they huddled together against the cold.
They held bowls of soup in their hands but none of them were eating. They just stared into the flames with their faces empty and devoid of expression.
No, actually there was some emotion on their faces. It was just hard to differentiate from emotionlessness on a surface level.
It was grief.
Allen recognized them soon. It was the same group he had talked to earlier, the ones who had been laughing and joking along with him, but something wasn't quite right.
