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[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone,  - [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Udmz0Ixdz5A][b]Healing from new wounds, looking over old ones[/b][/url][/i][/color][/sub]
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[color=5D7CFF][b][i]"There's a place I know,
Down the River Éntro,
Where the fair missus waits for me.
With her hair in amber clad,
Her eyes show her glad
As I am ready to come home from war."[/i][/b][/color][/centre]
[color=Silver]	With his had fixated on the photo tightly clutched between his fingers, he smiled to himself as his Oceanic accent slowly splintered out beneath a coarse and roughened voice. The harmonics weren't necessarily as Ines' had earlier, but the more traditional and folk-style of his solitary performance to himself made him rather happy. It helped pass the indefinite time. Unlike Freya, Thomas was a bit more patient and was used to being left in unsanitary conditions. With a bed beneath his back, it was rather nice knowing that he could just relax. The previous time he'd been shot was back at the Southern Frontier, where he spent nearly two days in a dugout, waiting for the more experienced medical practitioners to figure something out about his health. It wasn't nearly as serious back then, and was more of a blunt shot just above the hip, but the pain was more-or-less the same as it was now. He remembered the nights were he thought he was going to die, knowing that perhaps one of the many Imperial nightly trench raiding parties would come across his dugout on their way across No-Man's land and would silence him once and for all. It wasn't like that though. Eventually, he made the decision to physically crawl back to the trench line by his own accord, favouring the prone position to minimise his silhouette. A charge that had gone wrong became a wonderful story of breaking the tradition of being left out to bleed and die. Freya was so happy that day, having thought she lost her wise tutor as the two Oceanics had with many of their other friends. The numbers of the original group who'd signed up with them were mostly gonners, sitting either in a makeshift grave behind the frontline trenches, lost and never found after an assault or yet to be located amidst the seas travelling to Europa.

	God, what a journey this had all been. Thomas was more than happy that he lived a life full of what many considered horror, but what he found as an educational adventure. Sure, there were many treacherous things that even made him question his own confidence, but the brunt of it all was that Thomas had grown as an individual. Where his family couldn't cope nor sustain a full appreciation for the hard work he'd put in, the frontlines was seemingly where he belonged. Natural charisma, natural leadership. All of these characteristics that had been passed on through generations of the Carter family name were finally applicable where they were meant to be. Thomas was the first and definitely not the last in this batch of soldiers, ready to do what they thought was right. For Thomas, he didn't know the Empire as the brutal enemy that the Federation seemed to perceive them as. He respected them quite a bit for their tactics and superiority in technological advancements, but having them as an enemy was something he simply had to expect. No questions could be asked from him anymore because no one would listen. So, he got on with his job. And he was bloody good at his job. All the payments went home to his family, those who were not yet wanting to join him in the fight. Thomas was truly here on the frontlines so they didn't have to. It was part of his code of brotherhood and familial respect.

	A knock came at the door, stopping him from singing. Still slumped in his bed, barely dressed except from some scruffy nightwear below the torso, he grumbled a few words before announcing their permission to enter. Slowly the door came to, and to his relief it was only Freya stood in the doorway, dressed down far more casually than she usually did, which was saying a lot in all fairness. The two stared at one another for a brief moment before Freya sluggishly came inside, closing the door behind her with a slightly off-note chuckle. Her voice seemed to be less like her chirpy persona indicated and more like the day it all happened, back in 1913EC. Eventually she walked to the side of his bed and slumped onto it, avoiding Thomas' legs in case he'd miraculously been shot there a second time.[/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"How's it going, Frey'? You don't seem like you are up to your usual self."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]At first, she didn't answer, and so Thomas gave a heavy sigh, attempting to sit himself up. Without a shirt on, his rather weathered body was seem peppered with recent patches of field dressing and first aid assistance kindly given by the trained inn staff, all who were rather well versed in the art of treating all sorts of wartime wounds. It was quite clear that by his build, Thomas had done a fine job in keeping his physique up to the same level, if not better, than he'd boast of when they first met in the training camps back home. He waited until Freya finally turned her gaze towards his before he cracked a smile, one that instinctively made Freya smile out of her own pure inability to remain unhappy. The two randomly chuckled to one another after the strange silence before he asked a different question, nodding sympathetically.[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]"Come on Frey'...I know you're still thinking about...well...[i]her.[/i]"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	This time, Freya couldn't maintain her silence any longer, and instead let out another grand sigh. Letting her hair spread out across the sheets of the duvet was rather relaxing and made her feel somewhat free, but there was truly never any freedom for the two subjects to someone else's war. They couldn't complain though, they [i]did[/i] volunteer, though under many false promises. With her top button finally unbuckled, allowing her inner skin to breathe more fluently, she eventually began to nod and speak, having a melancholic smile to her face as she did so.[/color]

[color=FF0202][b]"Thomas, if you could stop reading my mind for one minute, that'd be nice, cunt."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Another short pause briefly filled in with a few patches of laughter ensued, however this time Freya didn't let it hold and instead continued to answer the question he had put forward gently.[/color] [color=FF0202][b]"Yeah, I'm still thinking of Naomi. There were a few girls downstairs who reminded me of her in every way. That...beautifully carefree nature, filled with unending smiles, the banter-filled flirting and occasional desire to just put everything that was serious to one side. Some even look like her, but I imagine that's my mind playing on me, Thom. I still miss her, every day and every night. Naomi, I'd say in my sleep. Pretty sure Jean heard me spill the name out once or twice in a rather lucid dream of us reuniting."[/b][/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"You two reuniting in a dream? Knowing you that's probably filled with a rather lewd endeavour, am I wrong, lass?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Again the two chuckled, Freya even trying her hardest not to blush at the fact she'd been proven guilty by their empirical experiences of one another. Freya was the kind to sort of think in those [i]certain[/i] lustrous ways, especially after all that she and Naomi had been through together. It was most likely what drove her flings, single or double chances at exciting or giving other soldiers around her a chance to relief the stress they had built inside with her expert intimacy. Thomas had questioned it in the past, but she simply shrugged and told him even female soldiers need relief from duty, casually winking at him when saying it.[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]"I...I think it's good y'still think about her, Frey'. She was the best thing to ever happen to us, even as a friend to me, and we can't change the fact she's now gone. I know part of you still blames yourself for putting her on that boat, but just remember that promise we made together."[/b][/color]

[color=FF0202][b]"What, the plaque?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Thomas sat up, getting close enough to flick her hair with his injured arm just to piss her off. It worked enough for her to swipe it away, but she still couldn't help but smile before getting back to the topic at hand.[/color] [color=FF0202][b]"Y'know, as much as I appreciate it, everyone back home calls [i]you[/i] the Pride of Oceania, not Naomi."[/b][/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"[i]Pride of Oceania[/i], my arse. I'm just a guy who runs, get shot a few times, brings important messages and orchestrates a few good tactics that kinda saves a few or more lives. Nothing too special, ey?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Again, both of them laughed together, knowing full well that Thomas was indeed the more prospective soldier of the entire Oceanic Expeditionary Forces. For a moment, they fell silent a final time, looking into one another's eyes with a sort of paternal and sibling-esc gaze. Well, Freya's could've been seen as something more, but nothing ever came of the two's extremely close compassionate camaraderie for one another. After all, Freya did still love Naomi. Who could argue with that?[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]"Now, do me a favour, you cheeky cunt, and get me the local nurse will y'ah? I think my bandages need replacing again, and my leg feels fucking shit. Won't be able to do much running for another week or two, or a month, but I'll get by in combat."[/b][/color]