Wolf

He was an animal and, at the same time, not an animal – he was machine fashioned in the image of wolves, by the hands of man and meant to follow, obey and serve man. But here he was without master and thus, with neither command and reprimand by which to follow. One hardly needed to strain the eyes to spot the figure of a wolf wandering amidst the vast expanses of sands.

Hunt

Wars are never meant to be good – always horrible, utterly despicable – so that you may never come looking for them. But when you’re bound to a hospital bed because of some child’s-play piece of shrapnel, you feel robbed. Denied. Of what I don’t exactly know. And it was even worse when I learned that I was the only one left of Fireteam Metal.