The snap of the creatures neck quickly woke Brother Scout Denton from his pleasant slumber. Looking down he saw the twisted form of a small creature contained tightly in his grasp. Blinking, he shifted his gaze from this sight to that of Sergeant Valls' who sat calmly in front of him cleaning his boltgun.
"You act as if this surprises you my young one, have you not become accustomed to the changes within your body?" There was a pleasant tone in the Sergeants voice, one that only came with years of battle hardened experience.
Gently tossing the creature aside Denton approached the side of the veteran, and sat calmly beside him. The old warrior looked upon his student like a father on his son, and with this gaze came more answers than all words could provide. Over the last year, Denton had become rather secure with the idea of having this man present throughout all the changes his body had gone through.
For one, it had been several weeks since his squad had been given any chance to rest. The constant trails of war had made the idea of slumber all but impossible. While their need for such an instinctual habit had all but disappeared, the idea of sleep had been a nice one at that. Witnessing the sunrise so pure, and free from the taints of war, there came a pleasant air over the mood of his sergeant.
Quietly they sat beside one another, gazing across the vast plains of Turness II, the colors that made up the Warriors Spectrum washed slowly over the bleak landscape. With each orange, and red came a sense of adventure, of wonder, and both sat quietly thanking the Emperor for this slight moment of peace.
Valls' dreaded hair blew calmly with the breaze, and the rhythmic clang of beads against power armour was all that pierced the dawn. A feather danced gracefully from a piercing through his left ear, and the blues of his armour and warpaint appeared as a dim purple under the light of the rising sun. Denton occasionally shifted his gaze from the landscape, to his sergeant, and couldn't help but notice his weathered face. With each wrinkle, each scar came a story of honor and valour. With each story a lesson, many of which would remain untold for all of eternity. This man, this marine was an ultimate symbol of the Emperor's Light, and Denton knew that it was up to him to never forget this. As well as to strive daily in order to achieve it himself.
"Enjoy this while you can, for your rest will soon end, and we will once again be given the task of bringing the Emperor's light back to the heretics below." The mood of the had veteran suddenly shifted, and while he clutched his weapons he quickly rose to the morning. "Prepare yourself young one, and awake the others it is time..."