materials of war

Ares and Thanatos carve out a moment of reprieve in the midst of a battlefield.

The day is bright; the light reflected back from the snow that still coats the ground. It glints off the edge of Thanatos’ scythe, sharp enough to blind him, and settles strangely over his sallow skin.“Don’t you find it too bright?”“I…can’t say I’ve ever thought such a thing, my friend,” Ares says slowly. “Although, I suppose that it must be quite different in your underworld, hm?”“It is far lovelier,” he grumbles.Ares looks around the battlefield to the blood and the shining armour. Looks to the trees in the distance and the dark rise of mountains sat behind the city. Looks to the parting of the clouds and the sky that breaks through, bluer than even the sea.He looks back to Thanatos, who watches him with yellow eyes as still as the air. How clearly out of place he is. Far lovelier, indeed.