[Whoever passes by the entrance to the dorms will see a teenager of maybe 14 years, but that age is really only visible in the bits of remaining baby fat and other such details of the facial structure: The brunet looks exhausted, the eyes much too old, acutely so, and more blood than can reasonably be shed by one person is spilt over a greenish military uniform, complete with helmet and everything, that is caked in dust and grime. A rifle is slung over one shoulder, loosely, as if to keep it ready and at hand, but while alert, Kiwi is not about to use it if spooked. There has been too much death in the recent and very recent past to really need more.]

This place looks peaceful. [It's not really meant as a remark to someone, more as a note-to-self kind of finding.]

So [and this is where the nation will adress the world as a whole, or maybe the building that the brunet is standing in front of] everyone here is supposed to dabble or be dabbling in magic. I'm surprised that the city is still standing.

[Having seen and hear about magic what the nation has, Kiwi is not too keen on getting first hand experiences in magic.] I wonder if it is very different from what they do at home.

...There can't be much more time left before I wake up. Standing around here isn't going to make the most of this. [The brunet's expression turns into a smile that speaks of a determination to not let the worries of the waking world affect the inside of a peaceful dream.]