Deselin

((My name's Jallas, Xeno. :P))

Jallas just nodded at what the commander said. He understood the situation, but he was just itching for something to do to take his mind off of the impeding battle. If they happened to die here, then who else would fight? They had a slim chance, and in the end, Jallas accepted what might happen to them if they were to fail.

Without warning, however, the enemy had struck first. An arrow had landed right upon one of his fellow soldiers, and she fell to the ground, bleeding. Jallas instinctively nocked an arrow and aimed it into the wind-blown dust. He couldn't see anyone and released the tension on his string, but kept the arrow nocked and his free hand on his belt, just in case. He turned to the soldier that had been hit. Another woman was kneeling beside her now, and to answer the question she asked, Jallas said, "There's a medic's tent near the back of the formation, bring her there and see if they can cut the arrow and push it through." He was semi-learned in the medical arts, but he had nothing he could use at the moment besides his knives.

Jallas turned away from the scene and looked back to the glint of the shields. He tried not to lose himself in thought because they could be attack at any moment, but he couldn't help himself and he drifted off to see the same memory again, but no father as usual. And in his memories he stayed, searching desperately to try to find at least a glimpse of his fathers' face.

((I'm starting to develop my past a little now so bear with me if it doesn't look all that great.))

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