[ 'has'. Yes. Has. Someday... Someday, he would like to think he will be back in his service. A thoughtful glaze passes the look in his eyes, kept submerged in his lap. He stuffs his homesickness where it belongs, which is not polite conversation. His response slips out as a quiet murmur but brimming with that withheld and private emotion. The ghost of a smile may have traced the slight line of his lips.]
Thank you. He deserves the best I can be.
[At this point, he lifts his chin to focus on Manuela, expression sobering even more, but his eyes glint with curiosity. The way she brings up war is not with the gravity it warrants, but that's not unusual. Speaking of it together dismissively like it was just a waste of time are all a part of coping, he supposes. Otherwise, soldiers would be crushed by the weight of their grisly duties. Everyone who can relate does it one way or another. But Soren wants to know more.]
Five years... I can only imagine the toll that took. Ours only lasted one. You said you were a physician, so you must have been charged with tending to the wounded. Am I correct?
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Thank you. He deserves the best I can be.
[At this point, he lifts his chin to focus on Manuela, expression sobering even more, but his eyes glint with curiosity. The way she brings up war is not with the gravity it warrants, but that's not unusual. Speaking of it together dismissively like it was just a waste of time are all a part of coping, he supposes. Otherwise, soldiers would be crushed by the weight of their grisly duties. Everyone who can relate does it one way or another. But Soren wants to know more.]
Five years... I can only imagine the toll that took. Ours only lasted one. You said you were a physician, so you must have been charged with tending to the wounded. Am I correct?