The project was laid back on the ground, staring up at the sky silently. Things had become so slow as of recent and reluctantly, he admitted to himself that he missed the days of combat. He let out a faint, lazy yawn, sitting up. Once he placed a target on one of the near by trees, he threw one of his knives at it, almost hitting a perfect bullseye. "It's been awhile since we've last encountered each other Jean..."
Jean approached 115 quietly, glancing at the almost perfect bullseye by her ear.
"Yes, it has, 115." She then laid her silver eyes on the boy with a slight kindness, a familiarity. She remarked that he looked rather tired, but not physically, more like he had gotten lazy. Jean smiled laughingly for a single moment, then it faded a bit, becoming more controlled. "It seems you’ve become weaker since my absence, 115." She stepped forward. "How careless and uncharacteristic of you."
"Hey, it’s not that I’ve grown weaker, it’s just that there has been a shortage of engagements recently. I’m almost reluctant to say it, but I miss the rage of war for the time being."
Jean laughed quietly, never taking her eyes off of the boy. “How funny to hear you say that, 115. You who must lead others to their graves to say you miss death.” Jean stopped chuckling for a quick second before nodding her head, losing emotion. “Forgive me. That was a rude thing to say to you 115.”