Logan, solo, on Youra

[x-wolverine.livejournal.com]

Logan takes a moment to honor the fallen before departing the battlefield.



Logan wandered the battlefields of Youra, moving so as to avoid any of the clean-up crews. In one hand he held a bottle of sambucca, freshly cracked. In his other he held a roll of coins. Finding a likely spot, he squatted in the dust and extended one claw and dug a shallow trench into the rock of the island.

He paused, then, to take a swig from the bottle. The liquor tasted awful, but somehow appropriate. Once he had the trench the way he wanted it, he dumped the roll of Greek coins into the gash. He spaced them out so that each coin lay by itself flat against the ground.

A pause, then, to honor those who had come before. Remembered or not, on this Greek isle or wherever else the restless dead lay. Mistrans, Greeks, Spartans, Reclaimed, pirates, soldiers, men, women, children. For all of them, everywhere. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he dumped the rest of the sambucca over the coins before patting the rock-chips and dirt back over the coins.

Standing, he dusted himself off and fired off a perfect salute to no-one in particular before turning his back and walking back to the jet.