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[color=Silver]	Grant listened to Gabriel ramble amongst himself, their words being split apart by the odd breath or two from their job. The others behind him seemed to not engage with them so far, at least not from what he'd realised. Leading the pack, the two nomads moved with rough progression, the occasional voice yelling at them to keep their pacing up coming from the trees and rooftops they passed. Instructors proficient in rooting out Cadets' shortcomings were always watchful, scouting out the slightest flaw to expose and force the weakened to work only on correcting it. Here, there wasn't such a case. It was run or be brutalised for not doing so. They were allowed the odd ten minute break as they circumnavigated the course. Trees of unparalleled magnitude towered over them, warehouse huts and officer cabins were passed by at irregular intervals. All Grant wanted was to be back at the dormitory, taking a rest and perhaps being given a nice shower to clean the sweat from his brow. Though not the hardest day of his life, it was starting to paint a picture of a bleak three years, if he were to survive that long at least. He didn't want to experience fear, agony and confusion, but they were necessary evils to expose oneself towards if he wanted to enlist. Now that he was here, perhaps it was worth taking every shortcoming as it was, not going out and looking for troubles to prove himself on. Cockiness was only going to get him killed before he'd even left the training yard.[/color]

[color=08A2C4][b]"I suppose you're right."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Time had flown past since they'd first left. What had it been? An hour? Two? Time was barely registered, and the sun rarely looked as if it were shifting positions. Most of their jog was spent within forest anyway, the sunlight being blocked by the foliage up top. Occasionally, birds flocked to certain branches, but most of the journey was spent in silent ambience. No loose deer to bump into, no rabbits to cross paths with.[/color] [color=08A2C4][b]"Though...I guess being in this forest is nice. It reminds me a lot of old things."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	He turned his head, seeing Roger, who still hadn't said a word to them, looking directly at him with a slight curiosity. Sure enough, Grant was more rambling to himself than he was at Gabriel, mostly to pass the time in his head. With a nervous wave of the hand, he simply mouthed to forget it. Truly, there was nothing important Grant could say. He was yet to find any footing in the Cadet Corps. Those like Gabriel had goals and aspirations, places they wanted to be and people they wanted to go with. Grant was still searching for a reason to be where he was. Financially, it was easier for his father. Even so, Grant didn't want to help his father out particularly, but it couldn't be helped. If there was ever a time he wished to live with his mother, it was then. But, he was here now. In doing so, he could potentially get closer to the only family member who truly cared about what he was doing, who he was with and where he was: Uncle Mateo.

	Mateo Valente, the man of the hour, day, month and year. To Grant, all his being was wisdom blended with a youthful complexion and cunning attitude. Very few things had shaken him, at least when in front of Grant. Talks of gruesome misadventures outside the walls brought several nightmares to Grant, yet even then Mateo told them in lighthearted fashion, all the while refusing to censor the potential missteps encountered. The only thing he rarely spoke of was his discharge, something Grant dwelt upon the more he grew up. Mateo was an odd figure, one he hadn't seen in a while since his first admission into the military. He wondered if anyone else had someone like that in their lives, a figure that took them to where they were now. Well, of course they did. Whether something to run from or someone to run towards, surely everyone had a reason of their own. Glory. Honour. Freedom. Responsibility. Meaning. All of these were apt, and all of them were still clouded to the blonde boy. He just needed to get through training and find his purpose, by all means.

	Hours would pass, and eventually Grant would return to the dormitories. When that would happen was still to come. He knew he'd be back there at some point, with several conversationalists asking him what it was like to take the beatings of someone else's moral compass. Oh...right. The out-speaking Cadet. Did Grant hate him? Well, how could you hate something you didn't know. You could dislike the impression you were given and Grant was rather reluctant to viciously snap out at anyone of the sorts. He'd seemed to have made a lot of allies within the first day, people looking up to him and spreading the word of mouth as soon as they were all dismissed. Enemies weren't needed, but they were also sometimes unavoidable. Deep down, Grant hated the fact he was the target of another person's personality. Maurer was to blame, but at the same time he was making sure that the ones shrouded in overconfidence were going to be brought down to an equal level. Grant didn't understand Maurer's methods personally. He didn't know he was being made an equal to those of higher status. All he knew was that he was about to complete a three hour jog and Charles wasn't.[/color]

[centre][sub][@LordVoldemort][/sub][/centre]