@KalamariCakes
Bailey looked at George. "Are you sure I can't help with cleaning?"
Bailey looked at George. "Are you sure I can't help with cleaning?"
Peter flinched for a moment while reloading his gun. He brought it up swiftly again and fired.
André came flying back. His face was red, as was many men's, with breathlessness. He scooped up his gun to fire, muttering rapidly under his breath as the patriots began mowing down redcoats on the ground.
Peter remained steady. He would stay until John told him to retreat. He took down two more Patriots.
"Peter," John gasped, "Im going to help the men below,"
"I'll come with you!" Peter immediately suggested.
Bailey looked at George. "Are you sure I can't help with cleaning?"
“It’s fine, I’m finished now,” he replied, clasping his hands in his lap.
Bailey rubbed his chin. "Aye."
Skip?)
Sure, to who and when?)
The boi crew?)
Sure)
How far are we skipping?)
Week or so)
~~~
The regiment had joined with two others in marching south to the northern tip of Virginia where they would intercept a fleet of Brits from proceeding further. Halfway, the fleet settled for the night in their tents, in a vast grassy field littered with birch trees.
Pierre has settled at the foot of one of these trees, picking at the grass and staring off at the horizon.
Francis had found themselves climbed up in a tree, having an existential crisis. They were walking into their first battle within the next day… danger was inevitable and indefinite.
Pierre's eyes found Francis, not too far from where he was seated. He rose, jogging towards them.
Edonine looked over, leaning forward to hug the branch she sat on.
“Hey,” he greeted softly, raising his head to meet her eyes. “What’s on your mind?”
"Everything," she murmured back. She was just a foot, roughly, above his head. She let her naturally feminine voice take over. "Fighting… for the first time.."
Guilt twisted his stomach into a knot. He never should have let her do this— she would be taking lives, just to be with him. Her life could be taken. “The trick is to keep your mind in the present. When you panic, random movements and shooting could bring about you getting wounded. Keep your head in the game, always look behind you.”
She stuck a finger into a groove of the tree bark. "What happens if one of us gets hurt?" Edonine looked at his face.
“A medic will patch us up,” he answered quietly. “And if the injury is bad enough that we cannot fight, we’ll be sent home.”
She nodded slowly, accepting the lie—only men of high rank were sent home. Soldiers like them, they'd stay in a medical tent in camp. And probably die.
“But we’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” He had to believe those words, no matter how unlikely, or he’d go insane. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
"I'll come with you!" Peter immediately suggested.
“But we’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” He had to believe those words, no matter how unlikely, or he’d go insane. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
She looked back at the branch. "Promise me again,"
"I'll come with you!" Peter immediately suggested.
André nodded. He had no time to refute him.
"Of course," he said quietly, voice saturated with emotion. "I promise that I'll keep you safe to the best of my abilities. I promise."
She shifted and hopped onto the ground with a small grunt. "And if one of us doesn't make it…"
"I'll come with you!" Peter immediately suggested.
André nodded. He had no time to refute him.
"Lead on, John!" Peter called to him.
John johged towards the stairwell. No time was to be 2asted in this—men's lives were on the line.
Peter followed him diligently. "Tell me what you need me to do."
She shifted and hopped onto the ground with a small grunt. "And if one of us doesn't make it…"
"That's– Edonine, listen to me. To make it through this war without going completely insane, you have to believe that we'll both make it. But I promise you, that if only one of us survives, it will be you."
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