The Wolf

Pain and destruction and infinite sorrow

That's all there is in war, doesn't matter when, or where....or who for that matter.

I've seen it in every major war for the past...well...ever really. 

As Octavius regained consciousness, all he could feel was the cold ground on his face, the soft wind that tossed his hair, he could smell the earthen odor of the soft clay and also the acrid stench of smoke. His hearing came back…