When all was said and done, he washed the blood off the sword in the water in the hole and returned to his little ice-hut.
He was then treated to yet another parachute. Inside was enough food to keep him going for another day, as well as a pair of mittens.
He smiled grimly to himself. He'd grabbed nothing during the bloodbath, so these sponsorships, a reward for his killing, was all that was keeping him alive.
That day, another two cannons sounded, raising the death toll to twenty. He almost envied them, for being unable to feel cold anymore.