French Algeria line of defense.
In a raincoat, Haji and two others crouched as they shuffled through the rain-soaked trenches.
They were quite familiar with the terrain here, and even though the trenches all looked similar and a few new ones had been dug, they could still easily find Abram's location.
Abram was in a bad state, his face pale as he curled under his rain cloak, breathing with difficulty, occasionally letting out faint moans.
After the sound of wading through water, Haji appeared in front of him, the rain splashing from his head onto Abram's face, waking him from his murkiness.
"Have you seen Shire?" Abram asked.
"Yes." Haji touched Abram's forehead, which seemed to be burning with fever.
"The situation, the situation is bad, isn't it?" Abram's heart sank, sensing something off in Haji's expression: "It's okay, we, we can rely on ourselves."
But Abram knew this was just self-comfort.
