Post by Corran Boid on Jun 26, 2012 13:07:59 GMT -5
A cold morning wind blew down Serenity valley as a lone figure stood at a singluar stone marker. A head bowed in respect showing the loss of not a life but of innocense, because the marker was this man's own. Corran Boid had been and was still concidered a dead soilder. No hero, no one of improtance to receive a stone marker with their name. He had just a wooden plank with his initials and his date of departing this life.
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Laying the bundle blue roses at the grave he turned his back and looked at the valley. An orchard of apple trees had been tended to for the past few years and they were in the early stages of harvesting.
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Hera had an off season to the rest of the verse. Where winter they were summer when fall spring it made for a good thing in seasonal products.
Boid made his way toward the trees. By the time he would get there it would be lunch. He'd find a spot and rest before going back to his small ship and leave for the black and pick up Ai.
-
Laying the bundle blue roses at the grave he turned his back and looked at the valley. An orchard of apple trees had been tended to for the past few years and they were in the early stages of harvesting.
-
Hera had an off season to the rest of the verse. Where winter they were summer when fall spring it made for a good thing in seasonal products.
Boid made his way toward the trees. By the time he would get there it would be lunch. He'd find a spot and rest before going back to his small ship and leave for the black and pick up Ai.
