Watch the line. The forever-repeated mantra of the Battle of the Bulge. He thought that maybe he would rather stare out at anything than the snowy trees of the Ardennes. An Indian reservation was decidedly a welcome change. "Yessir. Was the dead of winter in the war back home - things may be pretty tense here," an understatement, if there ever was one, "but at least there's no frostbite."
He'd long come to terms with the fact that he was often by default the voice of optimism, if only because he kept his mouth shut about everything else.
"How're you holding up, Sir?" He asked, looking up at her, old habits as First Sergeant dying hard. She knew Cage a damn sight more than he did.
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ninetydegrees
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on 2011-03-14 04:03 am (UTC)He'd long come to terms with the fact that he was often by default the voice of optimism, if only because he kept his mouth shut about everything else.
"How're you holding up, Sir?" He asked, looking up at her, old habits as First Sergeant dying hard. She knew Cage a damn sight more than he did.