In the winter forest, the trees were withered and yellow, and the ground was covered with thick layers of fallen leaves.
Two stone miners, ragged and covered in dust and ash, their eyes filled with fear and exhaustion, their bodies covered in bruises and scratches from falls.
They supported each other, desperately running through the forest, constantly being tripped by stones and tree roots underfoot, but the instinct for survival made them struggle to get up again and again.
"Get up quickly, we absolutely mustn't be caught and taken back, going back is certain death!" The older stone miner gasped, his voice carrying a quiver of despair.
Their steps grew heavier and heavier, their legs felt as if filled with lead, running for their lives without daring to stop for a moment; those who hesitated slightly were captured by the soldiers, their pleas and cries still echoed in their ears.
"You up front, stop if you want to live, otherwise you'll be executed on the spot!"
