PINK SNOW

October 11th, xxxx

ONE TWO THREE HUP, one two three hup, one two three hup. Six in the morning, twenty-one soldiers, three equal lines jog through the Winter Forest beaten path, breathing out the cold, faces chapped and dry from slaps of the windy breeze.

Kamil—as Major Sandcastle leads the training, Community Princess trotting at his heels, Anduan—as Lieutenant Azure North picking up the slack behind.

Sporting nothing but boots and cameo trousers—the women wears tank tops—the soldiers are probably regretting their choice of clothing that though they may be working up a sweat having being at this for an hour, the sweat immediately feels like ice on their skin, the frigid air worse every second but they've got to keep going to keep their blood pumping.

Kamil is just getting started. This is his bread-and-butter; running, moving his body, endurance, that jogging feels like strolling. He knows he'll have to steer the troops away from the Forest soon, the burning in his thighs might be from physical exertion but not the tightening in his chest or the slight lightheadedness fogging his vision.

Ten minutes. A glance behind him tells him of the brave faces the soldiers wears, pushing themselves, shaking the blurriness away, exhaling twice as fast, breathing thrice as hard.

Anduan catches his eye and it look like she's enjoying herself better than everyone else. Although her face is a mess of pink from the cold and her hair glossed with sweat, it looks like any other morning for her.

Nine minutes. Kamil decides to do something crazy. He picks up the pace, increasing the jog to a sprint, made a U-turn and zipped to the left, away from the well trodded path towards the forbidden.

Towards but not quite. The land here is wilder, the plants are taller, sharper, the ground is a trick of twigs, fallen branches and fruits, the leaves thin but big slapping open skin.

He stops just before, the hooting of owls becomes more pronounced, footprints of foxes a clearer trail to their hideout and a whiff, just a hint of savagery nicks his sixth sense.

Raising a palm, the troops halts awaiting instructions and when nothing forthcame realized that for now, training is over!

Dramatic as only the soldiers know how, they hunched hemselves; leaning back, forward, on their knees, panting, catching their breath but when that proves insufficient, they begin dropping like turds to the ground, hiding heads in between their legs.

Kamil stares, unimpressed. He doesn't know whether their flair is exaggerated and he hopes for their sake it is because how can they be out of breath after jogging for an hour?!

"Sergeant, a word?" he beckons and she steps forward, hands clasped behind. "The troops are a sight for sore eyes. How can a jog wipe them out like this?"

Anduan peers over as if seeing their exhaustion for the first time. Excuses it by saying, "It's the Forest. They haven't built an endurance for it."

"I'm fine. You're fine. What's their excuse?"

A shrug is not the answer he wants.

"Then we build it. Every morning by five, you lead them for a two hour jog through the Forest."

He speaks to her but his voice carries and they hear. They disapprove and let him know it by whingeing.

"But Major, that's unreasonable...."

"We have other training. Why waste our time...."

"Sleeping is overrated anyways. What's two more hours..."

"It'll be so cold. I'll freeze to death."

"Do you want us to freeze to death, Major?"

"If we freeze, there'll be no training—"

"I'm so tired!"

Anduan hides her face masking a smile but by her stiff posture, none would guess she's enjoying the complaints. She finds humour in the strangest things sometimes, he thinks.

Narrowing his eyes, he drops his voice to a stern whisper, "Keep this up and I'll increase it to three hours."

"But Major!"

"You've killed me. I'm dead!" Private Qua fakes a dagger to her chest and drops, tongue out, eyes closed.

He opens his mouth to chide her but the dog lets out a bark, then another and another until the joking stops and seriousness descends upon them, the troops getting to their feet, the smile wiping off Anduan's face.

Kamil waits, peering into the distance for snarling wolves, ears alert for an ambush but he notices that the Forest is suddenly still—quiet. Nothing moves, nothing breathes.

And then, the smell hits him so strong he wonders how he hadn't smelt it. Blood. Blood so thick it seeps in the air, grips him, shakes the ground he stands on.

Curling into action, Anduan sprints forward in a flash, the troops leaping after her forming an inquisitive circle, slowly and methodically moving towards the smell—sniffing the air, the dog staying by him barking up a storm.

Barking for him to move!

As if disentangling himself from a wall of glue, Kamil runs ahead, the dog keeping up with him but his pace is slow, his breathing is ragged, his head pounds from lack of oxygen in the air.

"I see something! Over here."

As one, they jogged to the clearing, beating away snow freckled thorny leaves to find a pool of red snow drowning two tangled bodies, legs a V-curve, head slanted to the sky, eyes shut.

*******

Next chapter continues....