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~Cyrus looked up as his friend approached, smiling weakly. The red scythe on his cheek glowed a greeting.~ "Hello my friend." ~His voice was somewhat trialed and weary. He recoiled the bottle from Ursula's mouth, propping her up gently. With a sigh, he turned his gaze back to Aragorn. His blue-black hair blew on the wind and into his eyes, covering up the sunken nature of them. The war was taking its toll on the half-elf. He forced a grin up at his comrade, exhaling wistfully.~ "When all of this is over..."
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