Ukraine Drabbles
The snow was deep that morning. Single flakes cascading to the ground, it could have been almost beautiful, if it did not mean death for her children, her lovely hard-working people. The first snow had come too early, the crops would suffer and so would the people that depended on them.
Their despair filled her, overwhelming and crashing through her veins, in her blood, pulsing through her heart. How could they survive this? Would they? She knew they would, her children were strong, they could preserve, but so would the scars.
A gloved weight settles on her shoulder, the added weight almost causes them to tremble. A far away baritone whispers from right beside her, "Сестра." They would survive, they would not be okay, but they would survive.
AN: more drabble... please offer advise on writing style? Additionally, I don't edit things so please excuse any grammatical errors.