Wind howled around the rocks, bitter and cold. It carried with it the promise of snow.
Again.
General Cross sighed, and turned to the tall Lombax standing next to him behind a ruined wall..
"Looks like more snow on the way."
The other Lombax growled to herself. Captain Elizabeth Sharr was renowned in the Praetorian Guard for her short temper and prodigious strength. Not for nothing was her nickname "Iron Liz." The promise of more snow did not impress her.
She flexed her arm, rock hard muscles moving under her dun-coloured fur.
"Last thing we need, General. We've lost 10 lombaxes to frostbite this week."
The old gray lombax rose from the rock he'd been sitting on.
"Ginger has a plan, right? The last you heard, how's that going?"
Captain Sharr shrugged.
"Don't know. She says she's getting close to a breakthrough."
The general looked out over the frozen, desolate wasteland.
"I hope so. For all our sakes, I hope so..."