Expose cracks in a character who is always strong when a seemingly insignificant bug dies after a war they fought in.
Esme swatted at the fly again, shooing it from the leg she bandaged. She kept talking as if he needed a distraction from the blood seeping from his bandages. It was only a drop of what he'd seen in the last two days. A war with a sharp blade, that was what this was. The magistrates knew what they were doing when they sent their strongest against the uprising town. A swift kick to the knees to remind them. A war-soaked field pressed on his mind. Who will remember? Esme smacked his leg. She held her hand up as if to say, "Got it." The red gleamed new. He felt his face grow wet as the rain came to wash away their deed.