He pauses to rest his glove-cloaked hand upon the headstone, staring down at the mound of soil now gently caressing his body. The memory of the great war he fought in, his mortal wound, his comrades defending him as they pulled him to safety... all that begins to slip from his mind. He feels no regret, though, as he loosens his grip on the earthly realm and begins his journey to the halls of his forefathers...

I sketched this on the side of a Philosophy note paper. That's why I only drew part of it.