[center][img]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Marcus%20Halloway&name=TOY_S___.ttf&size=100&style_color=AB002E[/img][/center] He nearly missed the sunrise when the air felt like it did the last time around, he never let himself miss it afterward. He left his post during the worst possible time, another thing he now corrected himself on. He now worked without end on the gate and the city, finally getting around to the exterior defenses he always told himself about. He talked even less than he did back then, his vocal cords raspy and struggling to speak normally. His coat stayed over his shoulders, breathing just as normally as any other piece of clothing would. After the war five years ago, he had found the coat and had asked one of the seamstresses to make it a little more breathable. As always, it hung over him and his burgundy vest and suit, keeping most of his arm hidden from view. He sat atop the wall, watching the sun rise over the horizon. The crisp air hit his face ever so gently, reminding him so much of the three day war. A grimace found itself onto his face. He had taken the ordeal badly, but noting could compare to what Ravenia must have been going through. It never really ended. The stress, the losses. It just continued to pile and pile, the weight becoming more than one could bare without some sort of loss mentally. Sanity, sleep, energy. It would all just fade away. As he leaned against a pillar, not even the morning light in his eyes was enough to keep Marcus from starting his drift into the land of dreams. He never got any real sleep these days. Any time he fell asleep it would just be a small nap, the mare minimal requirement for his body to function properly throughout the day. His grandfather had done all he can for the man, even now, he stilled urged him to sleep a full night, at least once. His head drooped low before snapping back up. He wouldn't let himself sleep. He couldn't afford to miss anything again. Not with the city on the line.