[Seven eight nine ten eleven. His heart pulses and echoes in sync with another and his left arm grows more and more real, warm and present and here. The grooves and edges of the coin's insignia rough his fingertips and the static begins to quiet.]
(Wings.)
[His mind builds the image, piece by piece. Wings. Letters. Air... Air Force.]
no subject
( Wings. )
[His mind builds the image, piece by piece. Wings. Letters. Air... Air Force.]