The young scout grumbled as he sunk into the mire for what seemed like the billionth time. "How in the hell do I get myself into these kinds of things. With my luck, I'll be bitten by some rabid animal and be forgotten by my fellow 'team mates.'"

He let his mind wonder back to the warm campfire he had left in order to scout out the enemy's position. He was sure that the black-haired one would be scowling into the dregs of his drink, griping about how long he was taking to scout out one measly enemy's campground. The sweet little blond would try to reason with and give solace to the proud warrior.

Ah, the blond. As the scout skirted a deep mud hole he remembered he had wondered how such an innocent soul had been drawn into this hope-forsaken war. He wouldn't say 'God'. The only deity he believed in was Shinigami- the God of Death: and there was plenty of death around. Oops, sidetracked, back to Blondie.

The young man's smile was resplendent and he captivated the attentions of all those around- even stern Green-Eyes. Then again, there was nothing innocent to the some of the strategies he had come up with.

He quietly cursed as, with a nasty squelch, he was shin deep is gunk again. As he scrambled out, his thoughts drifted to the last two members of the scouting party: the ever taciturn and seclusion-loving Green-Eyes and Blue-Eyes.

Nothing much could be said about Green-Eyes- he never spoke unless he had reason to.

That just left Blue-Eyes. That one aggravated him so! Blue-Eyes would scoff at the fights he incited with the Black-Haired warrior. He was all about the mission: he never seemed to stop and enjoy life.

As the scout stopped to rest, he once again wondered who the four were. They had been working together for weeks now, and none of them even knew the others names. For some reason the general had forbidden any names to be given.

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After another hour and a half of stomping through the evil puddles of water and mud holes from hell, he came across the enemy's camp.

Only a few torches were burning and the camp was poorly illuminated. Still the scout could see the guards lurking in the shadows. He skulked closer, looking for the target. At last, a man appeared out of the central tent, his silver helmet glinting off a nearby torch. Immediately the camp was a welter men, animals, and noises. The scout snickered silently: all the pretty soldiers appearing busy before their Captain.

The scout vacillated between attacking the target as soon as he got out of the campsite perimeter or go back and inform the others. He chose the latter of the two, no need to die a martyr.

As the scout made the weary trip back, he wondered about the peace the end of the war would bring. Maybe he and the others could met up again and get to know each other better. Who knows? Life was unpredictable.

A/N- Hmm, short, very short. Well, this is what happens when my Honors English teacher gives us a vocabulary list and tells us to write a short story. Yes, yes I know I should be working on Rats, but I have writers block.

Disclaimer: NOT MINE. Okay, I know I didn't use any names, but I did use descriptions. I only own plotline and location.

Anyways, tell me what you think and I hope you enjoyed.

Thanks for the ending...but…STOP RUSHING ME! I'LL GET IT DONE WHEN I GET IT DONE!

(You know who I'm talking to)