The haze darkened above the steaming kettles while Hajin watched the cook drag barley and leeks through the bubbling broth. Sentries traded places along the wagons, keeping fifty paces between outer posts while men carried water toward the waiting litters.
Night came on without a sun ever bothering to show itself through that foreign sky.
'Not a single star up there, and somehow this damn place still finds a way to get darker.'
The company rested between the patched carts and the command wagon, keeping wounded men within reach of their friends.
Hajin popped two ration packs open beside the cook's supply crate and set both trays within easy reach.
'Sixteen after the last meal, fourteen after this one, and I'm not counting crumbs out loud.'
He split the salted beef between two bowls, and the cook eyed the meat before pouring hot broth over it. The man went back to stirring without a word, and Hajin hoisted both portions clear of the grit blowing past.
