a cartoon boy sitting in the sand with kites flying around him

The sand fills the sky, the two armies meet, the sword is blind. In the fierce engagement, a soldier was unfortunately hit by an enemy spear and fell in a pool of blood. Life was rapidly passing out of him, and in those last moments his consciousness began to fade, and the visions before him were fading away, replaced by warm, distant memories. In my memory, on a sunny day, the soldier was a child, making kites with his father in their small yard. His father was very clever with his hands, and taught him how to pick the feathers and attach them to the frame of the kite one by one. The child's eyes were full of curiosity and excitement, and he carefully observed his father's every movement, trying to imitate it, his small hands clumsily operating, and occasionally getting pricked by the thread, frowning with pain. The way his father looked at him, he could not help laughing out loud, and then patiently guided him, telling him not to hurry, to take his time. Together they selected brightly colored threads and d