I sat down, watching the snow turn pink. My lesser, Yakutsk, was panting heavily. My arm throbbed as I strained to recall the day we were forced to war. Russia's boss told us that Germany and the Axis were creating unrest and that we had to stop them.
"Yakutia?" Yakutsk asked me.
"Yeah?"
"How long have we been at war?"
"It's been over three months now."
"You're bleeding."
"I know. You are too."
"Not as bad as you," She said. Yakutsk was looking at me with her big cashmere eyes, and her black hair fell in her face.
"I think it's just my arm," I said.
"It's making your hair all bloody," Yakutsk said in a worried tone. Her childish voice could be so mature at times.
I was going to speak when a leader came over. His big burly body and hard eyes looked at us.
"You two Yakutia and Yakutsk?" He asked in a deep voice, raspy from all the shouting he most likely had to do.
"Дa," We said together.
"You're needed at Moscow," The man said.
With those words, I remembered when I first heard them. It was right before we declared war. World War 2 was about to begin and our Fatherland needed everyone to fight. Everyone. Even the children—or more accurately, us children of the country, not regular children.
I silently prayed for this to be the end of the war. That was all I could do, seeing as we might just be made into spies or something. Slaughtered to get a leader back. Anything. It didn't matter to them.
"Just get going."
I swallowed hard and took Yakutsk's hand into mine. She looked at me.
"Big sister…" She whispered.
"I promise to never forget your big cashmere eyes and black hair, the way you laugh, or all the memories we've made," I said to her, repeating a promise I'd made to her at the beginning of the war.
"And I promise to never forget you…with your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue," Yakutsk said back.
And we walked on.