When Leandra had first joined the 12th Legion, she felt there was no heavier weight than that of her armor when she put it on. Now she longed for a time when armor was the only weight she bore on her shoulders. She felt tired. A deep bone-aching exhaustion that sleep couldn't fix, not that she slept well anyway. And worse then that, she felt a moral obligation to lie and portray herself as strong, competent, composed and entirely under control.
Leandra sat at the edge of her bunk for a while, staring into the abyss. After several minutes, at least three eternities, she stood up, grabbing her backpack and headed to the other side of the barracks. It was the guy's side. She knew Gunther usually shared an off time with her, and she hoped he would be at his bunk too.
When she saw the mop of almost-out-of-regulation brown hair, she headed over to his bunk. "Hey, Gunther, how're you doing today?" She asked, starting with niceties.
Leandra sat at the edge of her bunk for a while, staring into the abyss. After several minutes, at least three eternities, she stood up, grabbing her backpack and headed to the other side of the barracks. It was the guy's side. She knew Gunther usually shared an off time with her, and she hoped he would be at his bunk too.
When she saw the mop of almost-out-of-regulation brown hair, she headed over to his bunk. "Hey, Gunther, how're you doing today?" She asked, starting with niceties.