Snow fell heavily, beating against the land, freezing everything in sight. It acted as white out for the earth, covering it in a chilly blanket. There were barely any trees around here. Just caves and hills. The vikings trudged on forward, following the invisible path to their home. The leader, Berwald Oxenstierna, trailed along the back, head turned down, his eyes partially closed. His mind was clouded with anger, anger at the European countries. All of them…just beat them easily. It was as if they saved their strengths until the end of the battle. The blonde looked up, adjusting his glasses. It was time to rest…
"We sh'ld f'nd a c've…" He exclaimed. The others turned and grumbled their responses.
The group stayed within a sizeable cave, which barely sheltered them from the intense wind and stinging snow. Berwald turned and looked over the others, checking on the women and children.
"…Mr. Berwald? I was wondering…" He turned and looked at the young boy speaking to him. The boy was trembling slightly, and his eyes were wide. He crouched down slightly, listening intently.
"W-when we get home…what happens to me…?" Ah…the boy was orphaned. He had forgotten. He thought for a moment.
"I'll g't one of th' oth'r men t' t'ke y' in…" He mumbled, looking away from the dissapointment in the boy's violet eyes.
"Oh…thanks, Mr. Berwald…" The boy turned and walked away. Berwald's green-blue eyes floated on the retreating figure before standing up and sighing.