017/365 09/07/2025

Lothar is tired. See there, on the battlefield. Through the smoke and through the dust. Past plains of slain enemies and broken war machines. The torn banners of vanquished foes and gutted mounts. Lothar slumps in his saddle. It’s not much. Most wouldn’t notice, but we can see. See the fatigue in his shoulders. The way he favors the right one, a ball of bone and scars…