After his time walking around the front line making drawings of the remains of what had been a lovely field, bubbling creek, sandy beach, or the former healthy/alive young man, he now greatly enjoyed this very type of setting for a walk.  His hand paused as he attempted to push those memories back into the deep portions of his mind.  He had lost himself there for a time due to his work during those years, and still had times when those memories peeked their wicked fingers into his thoughts.

Taking a breath, his brush began moving again. "It could be much worse."  He replied in a different tone than he had been using.  He had been friendly and easy-going previously.  This reply held the tone of one that seen just that, much worse.

As he pushed the mood away, avoiding it, again.  He glanced over at her.  "Nae a lass?  I 'ave 'eard aboot lads that dressed as a lass, but yu are the first one I've met in person."  The young woman did not seem to be a lad, and he was usually better at noticing such details.  Giving her a closer look, he shook his head.  No, she was a lass.  He was pretty sure of it, the shape of her and her manner just made him pretty sure of it.  If she was a he, then he was very good at living it.

He had heard about the heir of one of the Barons back home that was known to wear women's clothing while at home.  It had not bothered him, just something unusual for that area.  Others around the front line had spoken of secret groups that would get together.  He didn't care one way or another.  Though he thought a drawing or painting of such a group might be interesting.  Though with the way some others had commented about it, he figured it would be unpopular to have such a painting out where guests would see it.  He gave an internal grin.  Maybe he should do it.  He was known for drawing/painting the 'real' life he sees.