His dogs had been gone for ages, sold or killed by whomever the Colonel had left in charge. The kennels had fallen into disrepair in his absence, not fit for the poor bastards anyway. Still, he wished that they would have left his dogs at the farm. The animals had been what saved him when he went mad. After all, David thought grimly as he prodded a collapsing wall with his foot, sometimes dogs are more humain than people.
He leaned against the door and sighed as his cigarette burnt out. He was right back where he started; he had been an idiot and made a full circle instead of esacping from his fate. It was as if the past five years had never happened, as if he had just killed his brother and been dropped off on the farm for the first time. Damn irony.
Pissed at his inabilities, he slung the shotgun over his shoulder and stumped out of the barn. *This* time he wouldn't be sucked into another game. *This* time he had a real human being to save, not another soldier or another spy or another whatever the fuck they expected him to protect. Min was an innocent being with good, wholesome American parents and a decent, peaceful life ahead of her. She'd finish her degree and get married in a counrty church and have kids and make them cupcakes and be concerned with things like tax returns and flat tires.
He paused to light another ciagette and muse over his own future. He'd be less lucky, probably taking a bullet in some godawful forest and die slowly of blood loss or infection. Or maybe he'd be captured and killed in a prison cell by one of his hundreds of enemies.
He had to bend forward to protect the match from the wind. His hair fell forward and he grumbled as he it batted in out of the way. He'd need another haircut soon or else he'd start to look like a damn pirate again.