June 22nd
Blood stained
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Peter took a long, deep breath as he stood from his hammock, being extremely quiet not to wake his brother, who was all but passed out.
They'd both fallen asleep in the same hammock not long after returning from the battlefield, however when Peter woke up however many hours later, a horrible cramp in his arm had forced him to move from his position and get up, allowing Edmund more room to stretch and be comfortable, despite the fact that he hasn't even stirred through Peter exiting the hammock.
He'd been sat there watching for him ages before he noticed what a mess their tent was, and he'd decided to give it a little clean up, but only to get his mind off of what he was currently thinking about, because anything was better than that.
It didn't take him long to come across Edmunds armour, the tunic and trousers just dumped on the floor in the corner.
He picked up the tunic slowly, swallowing hard when he caught sight of the blood stained material, which made him feel so, so sick.
He stared at it for ages, memories of the battle flashing in his mind, and he hated it.
He had hated every minute of the last twenty four hours, and he wished he could take them all back.
He wished he could take away the pain that his little brother was in right now.
But he couldn't, what was done was done, and there was nothing Peter could do to erase the fact that he had nearly lost his brother in the most cruel, horrible, painful way ever.
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