Never again. He blamed Maddox for this, it was entirely his friend's fault that he was to be shipped off to one of the most boring places on earth for 'health reasons'. Granted his nerves were shattered and his old bones were full of rheuatism, but this? Two weeks of watching happier, younger souls prance around upon a freezing beach while trying to act civil towards the other decrepit folk which had been shipped off to this place of extremes. He was sick of the tonics and remedies they tried to shove down his throat and he was sick of the usual 'the clean air will do you good' speech the airheaded nurses gave him whenever he complained. He wasn't as old as he looked, but war and the filthy polluted air of the factories had quickly aged Captain Hatch Hobart. His once dark hair was now grizzled, and the veteran's lungs were about as healthy as his shrapnel-filled shoulder.
Even so, things weren't quite as grim as Hatch (known as Shrapnel or Sharpie to his friends) made them out to be. There was something alot less 'dead' about his eyes, there was a grumpy sort-of light about them. Like a ragged old tom cat, perhaps. He did have to wish things were a little quieter, even this early in the year the occasional holiday maker milled about, sometimes it was the yelling of children that filled Hatch's ears othertimes it was the mindless chatter of their parent's. Hatch pulled his beaten hat further down on his head, chosing to concentrate on the sound of the gulls which made this place their home. Hopefully the odd looking brat that was staring at him would go away before he was finished thinking.
((Kinda short. <3 And Hatch wears a hat like this one, obviously he's in human form. XP <3))