this is what it sounds like
"We won the war." he said. His friend bent down and scooped up a handful of charred earth that was once the glory fields of his home. Fallow the golden flowers all the way to Shallum Falls they would say. But not today, yes the war was won but at what cost. Was this land so precious to them that they had to burn it down rather then give it up. He pondered deep in his heart as the dust was carried off by the wind both mournful and wanting to repent. The enemy is gone, but what could they do now. A little girl walks up the hill where the warriors stood surveying the land and hands the knight a single flower. His tired body reaches out for it and he looks at her face. DIrty from soot and tired eyes from hiding from flaming arrows that would peirce the night she smiled at him as he took it. "Thank you" she said. With these two words he was peirced deeper then any wound, like a healers cut in t he body. She ran down the hill to her mother and father. "Your welcom." he said, in a voice that was like a gravel road, drawn out and full of texture. IN the end they had done the right thing. They will rebuild, they will replant the golden feilds of this land, and they will live on to tell the tale of these brave few and thier symbol of everlasting courage, the yellow dragon flower.