As Damas prodded the blonde with his boot, he figured him to be in his late teens. His hair was covered in sand, and the orange weasel next to him was panting.
"They're alive." Damas prodded the blonde again. He groaned and rolled over. "Barely."
And as the young one opened his tired eyes Damas realized for the first time that he had his wife's bright blue eyes.
And Damas was drowning, drowning in an electric pool of blue.
~LeiaOrganicSolo
