Authors note:

Sorry for the wait, writers block and school kept me from writing this for a bit. I definitely feel as though chapter 5 was very... meh

Anyways expect Violet in the next chapter, we need to see how she's doing after all?

Again reviews and criticism is welcome, it will help me write my shitty fanfic better.

-Chapter 6: Long time no see-

Winter grunted as he let go of the corpse he had been dragging, leaving it right next to the other 3 rebel corpses, all thoroughly looted of anything valuable. Knives, bullets, medical supplies, MREs... even crumbs. The only thing left on them were their clothes. He was not about to wear the clothes of the dead, but their stuff? yeah, that was fine.

He took one look at the rebel's corpses before spitting at them and began to back to the burned down hospital from this place in the woods. Keeping the bodies away from the hospital was a good idea... hopefully. Again he was not a survivalist, predators could be drawn in by them, and dead bodies usually were a massive health risk. And he knew a lot about health risks.

Physical maladies caused by the deplorable conditions of the trenches all kinds of diseases, various forms of the flu, and viruses had festered in those damp and cramped places where you risked your life not crawling in some places on account of a sniper. He had avoided the major ones on account of the better diet Gilbert had him on. Sure, a bad case of the flu knocked him out once for a week, but he never caught anything worse than that. Thank heavens.

Once at the hospital he welcomed himself inside through the opened window of the room he, and earlier the rebels, were staying in. Unlike the rest of the building, the second floor was almost fully intact here, the biggest missing piece was in the center where a 1-diameter hole allowed snow to spill in. Even if the roof was fully intact, he felt as though the cottage near Aiden's grave was a lot more comfortable. Maybe it was how degraded the building was overall from the fire, how it was originally built, or how he had killed 4 men here.

He never did mind getting a quick snooze in a foxhole after he had killed the man on watch however. Maybe he got that from Violet, he had gotten a lot of things from her. Damm effective knife and bayonet skills for one... No not Aidens rifle! Yeah, he named it Violet but, no, he's talking about his friend... She had called him that once. Quite a shock, the time she first did that. Oh, the wonders a dictionary can do.

Winter sat down near the still-going fire underneath the soup pot. He recognized the recipe, while there was the natural animosity between the guards and prisoners at the POW camp on account of being on different sides, everyone could easily together and enjoy the traditional soup one of the cooks whipped up. Winter had even with his supervision cooked it a few times when personnel were being reassigned leaving a grace period were the prisoners did more than sit around and helped around camp

So it was quite easy for Winter to resume where the rebels left off on cooking the soup, even adding in the remaining bits of hardtack (after being crushed) and stirring them around. He got the calories and did not have to eat what tasted like the Satan spawn of plywood and cardboard which was seeded in a shady back alley. Now all that was left was to wait for the last few dozen or so minutes until it was all ready to devour.

He could spend that time looking at the gear he now had, neatly organized onto one of the curtains that was wrapped around his legs earlier. Between them, the rebels had 4 Mosin Nagants, in total with around 240 bullets all in stripper clips, the cleaning kits for them, 4 bayonets, some bandages, a couple of grenades, a lighter, a box of matches, a few MREs, 4 shovels, 4 water canteens, 4 infantry bags, even 2 flashlights, and thankfully, 4 proper sleeping bags.

Standard infantry equipment, but that also meant they were not far from where ever they came from, meaning it was nearby. That was bad. The rebels would inevitably go after whoever killed those 4 once they find the bodies or their half-eaten remains. They won't let whoever killed their soldiers live. And if they found out it was a lone Lidenese soldier that should have already been dead killing their men, oh they'll be even more pissed.

Once he was done with the soup and had gotten some sleep he had to leave. All these supplies were nice but he only had his left arm still and he was not Violet. Even in peak physical condition, he could not take on a squad of ski troops. He was not in peak condition however, he was still emaciated from the abuse at the POW camp run by the rebels and that was bad enough without his missing arm. None of the bolt actions the rebels had were left-handed either.

Winter picked up Violet and one of the cleaning kits before heading back to the fire and sitting in front of it. He would clean it after he was done with the soup. It was almost an entire pot full of it, a dinner for 4 men, but humans can eat a lot when starving, and oh boy was he starving.

Winter sat next to the fire as he cleaned Violet. The years out in the weather have taken a toll on her that no cleaning kit can fix but some replacement parts from the other bolt action rifles and a good make over would allow her bolt to work silky smooth again.

The pot was still over the fire, boiling some snow into the water to refill the 5 canteens he had used to clean out its insides after he had somehow eaten all of the soup. He was still a bit groggy from that. At least hunger was no longer knapping at the back of his mind or buzzing around it like some annoying mosquito.

Winter looked over at Violet with a satisfied smile before securing it firmly with his legs to work the bolt. The satisfying cric and crack as he slid it up and backwards graced his ears before he picked up a nearby stripper clip and fitted it into the receiver and pushed the 5 rounds in. The clip was pulled out and the bolt slid forward and down, chambering a round in. He flicked on the safety and put Violet to his side.

She was a proper rifle again. It is a damm shame his lack of a right arm meant he could never use her properly out here unless he somehow finds a person who can install a prosthetic arm that has enough dexterity and finesse to work the bolt and pull the trigger, good look finding a prosthetic either, silver ones, the ones capable of doing so are damm expensive and have probably all been taken by now from wherever they were stored at in this country.

Speaking of his right arm, he still had it, it was all bundled up in one of the cottage's curtains. He was still adamant about keeping it, maybe he would hang it on a wall someday? for some god-forbidden and morbid reason. Hey if worse came to worse it could be used as a snack, the sub-zero conditions kept it frozen after all? It would be... disgusting to eat human flesh but at least it was his own.

Recycling? he reasoned. It was a disgusting thought no matter how he spun it. It was rare, but he had cannibalism seen during the war. There is little choice when you are in an encirclement, the food supplies ran out months ago and the dead are pilled high. Even Violet was visibly disturbed when they broke that infamous pocket of resistance. To think he would be partaking in it himself potentially.

He suppressed those thoughts.

Winter had nothing to do until the snow melted and the water it became boiled so he could put it away in the canteens and drink some himself.

The rebels were here to see if they could scrounge up supplies, maybe there's something here? all he had right now were bandages, some painkillers or proper meds could save his life down the road, he'd be an idiot not to look.

Winter stood up and walked to the curtain and all the items on it, he took one of the flashlights and one of the bags and left the room back into the hallway. It was dark outside now, the sun's rays reflected off the clouds above giving some light but it was barely enough to see the nearby forest, let alone anything of note inside the building.

He had spent time at hospitals behind the front lines occasionally during the war. If this place is similar to those, then he should have an idea of where they keep the supplies. Medical cabinets, storerooms, trolleys. All he had to do was find them

Taking into account the clearly burnt and looted areas, there was not a lot of space to cover... nor a lot to find. Sure he found some painkillers that had not expired yet and some antibiotics but again it's not much. It had only taken an hour but Winter is certain he found everything he could. Sure he could go scrounging in the other sections of the hospital but they were either burnt, looted, exposed to the elements or crushed beneath the second-floor collapsing.

The room he's currently in seems to have been a communal eating area for the staff, the roof is still somewhat intact here, so most of the furniture is still intact and if it was not, it was in small enough pieces to toss onto the fire to keep it burning for the night and hopefully into the morning. The newspapers would make great kindling too down the road. They're easy to transport and there's a lot to gather here. May even give him something to read as he heads south, give him an idea of how the world has changed whilst in the camp... well before this place was attacked at least.

Winter immediately gathered up a good chunk of the newspaper and piled it onto one of the intact tables. A lot of it has degraded, unfortunately, with only a few pieces still being legible but it was good enough. Most of them still had the images printed onto them, albeit a bit faded. Winter grabbed one on top of the pile and looked at the headline. "Negotiations have OFFICIALLY ended the GREAT CONTINENTAL WAR" in sensational letters. Winter got a bit of amusement out of reading them out like some sensationalist newspaper.

He took a quick look at the picture, a Southern Coalition and Allied Nations delegate shaking hands with people in the background. "Began with a gunshot... ended with a handshake" Winter chuckled. He took one last look at the paper, noting the beautiful hair on one of them before going to put it onto the pile... until he noticed that the girl with the beautiful hair looked familiar.

He brought the paper back and closely looked at it.

"...No"

She was far too tall... far too... graceful and beautiful looking, but... it had to be her. That. That was clearly Violet. Its barely been a... however long its been since he last saw her but... she's visibly changed for the better. Enough to not be around Gilbert at least, he's not visible on the photo. Perhaps he's just not there at all.

This paper was not going to be kindling, at least not the photograph, no, this piece... like Aidens rifle, it is sacred now. Winter smiled. At least she's in a better place.