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[color=Silver]	The blistering sun-kissed landscape had been covered in a sheet of darkness. As the hour approached, clouds gently fluttered above with grey frills to their stature. A heavenly shower began to patter down upon the huts' rooftops. Pebbles lurking on the dusty floor softened in its basking. Grant found himself slowly waking up at the call of a instructor's voice. Those lurking in his cabin at the time soon moved outside, rapidly making their way towards the mess hall. Dinner was now ready and Grant was just waking up. He grumbled, taking a dry palm and rubbing it against his eyes. A stretch or two loosened his muscles and awoke his bones. The grind of living had resumed once again. The dreams he'd been having: gone. He barely remembered what fantasy he'd concocted - only the faint glimpse of greener fields, unrestricted forests and ponds greater than anything else. A world where nothing was wrong. Of course, it was a common dream. There was no personality in tranquillity. He'd been thinking about it for days; perhaps the looming threat of titans was necessary to keep the world on its heels. Obviously he didn't agree with it all, but would the world really be worth living in complete peace?

	Grant didn't like the idea or thought of such dire, darkened cynicism. Dangerous thinking led to dangerous acting, as Mateo always muttered. The man who spoke little of his own downfall hadn't dwelt upon bad omens and shallow circumstances. He kept positive, maintaining a smile upon his face and a tongue to his cheek. It was either laughter or death, nothing else. That was outside of the military, at least. Grant had never seen the uncle at work, neck-deep in blood and bones of both Titans and comrades alike. He may have been a different person when the blades were tight in his grasp.[/color]

[color=Gold][b]"Hey...get up."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Only the approaching boot steps warned Grant of the other occupant. Whereas everyone in the cabin had already left to fill their stomachs, [url=https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/693300331240620112/702628202748575834/aaron-granblue-fantasy-the-animation-121595.png]Roger[/url] had been stuck behind, limited by his fatigue. Each gentle prod he made against the slumped, bed-ridden Grant was met with a light mumble. He rose up, holding his hand against his head again and yawning. Chances were that once dinner was finished, he'd disappear into the sheets once more and prepare himself mentally for the following day.[/color] [color=Gold][b]"Get much sleep, then?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Silently, Grant shook his head, pushing the thin covers away into one corner of the bed. Above the wooden ceiling the trickling of nightly showers began to fill the blanks between their conversation. He looked up to Roger, seeing his meagre expression. There wasn't much to fault him for. The march wasn't easy nor was it simple for anyone who hadn't experienced something similar. All on the first day, he'd received someone else's punishment whilst being labelled as the standard for lacklustre, uninteresting, faceless cadets. Grant didn't know whether he should've felt sorry for the guy or glad it wasn't himself in his position. And so, Grant sat on the edge of the mattress, moving his cold fingers down to the laces of his boots. His fingers drifted between each lace, curling them into a tight knot and encasing his ankles within its leathery compound. Roger stood patiently, giving him at least someone to sit near.[/color]

[color=Gold][b]"You think there'll be any food left by the time we get there?"[/b][/color]

[color=08A2C4][b]"Should be. I'm not expecting anything other than soup or bread, if we're lucky."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]With his boots tightened, Grant rose to his feet and stood at the bedside, only just rising above Roger's head. Both began to make their way to the door.[/color] [color=08A2C4][b]"Did you actually have lunch?"[/b][/color]

[color=Gold][b]"I managed to get a scrap or two when you were asleep."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]From his pocket, Roger drew out a small paper napkin, trying to unfold it. As if there were something to be anticipated by, he revealed nothing except an empty few crumbs. Immediately, he frowned at the napkin.[/color] [color=Gold][b]"Ah, shit. Someone might've nicked the crackers."[/b][/color]

[color=08A2C4][b]"Ahh, no worries. We're going to get something to eat anyway."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Still in the midst of waking himself up, he chuckled halfheartedly. Poking their heads out of the main door, they saw the droplets hitting the ground in succession. It wasn't the heaviest it could be, but it definitely wasn't a dribble. Grant hoped it would settle throughout the night. The last thing they needed was a bogged down training yard for physical briefing. In due time the duo left the cover of their cabin and made the trek through the darkened night. Only lantern posts lit their way, the loud and bright doorway to their mess hall being the light at the end of their journey. It was a rush of noise, even before they reached it. Grant confirmed his name to Roger upon request, solidifying their acquaintance.[/color]

[color=Gold][b]"I'll probably split once we get inside. I'm gonna look for my sister."[/b][/color]

[color=08A2C4][b]"You brought your sister along with you to recruitment?"[/b][/color]

[color=Gold][b]"Actually, she brought me along..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Grant was going to chuckle at first, seeing his rain-doused spouting as a joke, but the dimmed gaze into the soil he gave suggested otherwise. Roger seemed desperate for some sort of reconciliation, following the light with a muffled sigh. Their hair began to soften and drown in the precipitation. Hearing his lack of enthusiasm really set him apart. In turn, Grant's mind went back to earlier that day when he met Adèlyn.

	He was still conflicted about her as a person. She seemed brash, lavished in a rich case of superiority through physical attribute. Every step she'd taken during their conversation had a presence to it, one of power and of strength. She'd mocked his completion and challenged him to the top of the cadets. Grant only joked by her side, accidentally prodding out a friendlier nature he didn't expect. And of course, he didn't mind the teasing. It seemed all in good faith, at least to Grant. A chance to encourage him, perhaps even without that being the original intention. Her prized potency to the harshness of the world was admirable to say the least. He'd have been lying if he'd said he'd seen someone as characterised as herself, a personality of unfamiliar proportions. It was an exciting change for once. How much he'd see her was likely down to circumstance, and whether he'd make it to the end of his Corps Training.

	Finally, they entered the mess hall. An unfathomable glimmer from candle lit lanterns reduced the darkness to nothingness. A sea of voices and heads conversing with one another, laughing, worrying and chanting gave way to a new life. Grant stood motionless in the doorway, taken back by its current flow. Seconds passed before Roger said his short farewells and disappeared along the perimeter, scouting out the table where his sister had been waiting for him. He didn't see where he went, only that he did go into the far ends of the hall. Unwilling to stand out, Grant shimmied across the circumference of the tables. He looked for the food stands and made way for their portions. To say he was surprised would be yet another fib; the piles of dry bread, a bowl of vegetable soup, a cup of water and an additional tiny portion of meat. He wasn't expecting the final item, and its tough, dry and chewy manner at least indicated that it wasn't to the highest of quality. But after missing lunch, he'd not ignore its temptation. A cloaked instructor handed him his portion and told him to head to any available seat. It wasn't a case of picking and choosing his table guests, instead he'd just find whatever wasn't crowded.

	And there, he saw the distant corner table in the least lit quadrant of the hall. Most of it was still uninhabited, but he did spy out a face that [i]felt[/i] familiar. He couldn't put a finger on it, but they almost looked identical to a shop's child from his own youth. Though he couldn't say for sure, he couldn't unsee the image he'd plastered into his mind. Either way, he didn't want to let the food run any colder than it already was. He sat down, placing his tray not too close to theirs. For a few seconds, he spent the moment to adjust his dressing and pick away at the dry cuisine before his very eyes.[/color]

[color=08A2C4][b]"Not the worst thing I've eaten, must say."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He turned to the one sat beside him, seeing mostly short hair and a shrouded expression. In his head, he still wondered if it was the same person or not.[/color] [color=08A2C4][b]"You ready for tomorrow's session then? Guess it'll really ramp up from here."[/b][/color]

[centre][sub][@Kuro][/sub][/centre]