[centre][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/436941809848025090/529374172258762763/gwyn.png[/img]

[h1]Gwyn Therwyn[/h1][/centre]
[hr]

Gwyn was going to have to swallow his nervousness, because Thomas was a goddamn magnet for conversation. First Michael, then Diana, then Isaac, all coming over to have a chat and a smile. Shame he didn't bring some bickies. He took a little step back, and introduced himself to the newcomers.

"Name's Gwyn. You need a mine or a wall of sandbags set up, just give me a shout, yeah?"

He accompanied this with a little salute and a big smile. He wanted to make as many friends as possible before he went out into the front. These people had survived the front. The push! They had stared down death and survived! Surely they'd be willing to share some advice with a relative greenhorn like himself? 

Gwyn was no stranger to a bit of combat training. He aced the practical exams. But he wasn't a blithering idiot. The field wasn't like the training field, as his father had been eager to remind him every waking hour of the day. You made a mistake in training, you got punished. You made a mistake in a combat scenario, you or someone important to you would die. Gwyn didn't know what it was like to die, but he couldn't imagine it was a very pleasant feeling, so if it was all the same to you, he'd rather stay alive, thank you very much.

[color=a0410d]“Oi, Gwyn!” [/color]

Now that was a voice he recognised anywhere. Last he saw him, he'd been put in the doghouse for insubordination. Honestly, he was surprised he was able to get the the train stop without being in chains - or shot.

"LUKE! Where have you been, ye bastard, ye!" Gwyn cheered heartily. "I thought you would have been scrubbed out by now, boyo!"