An absolute war zone. The simplest and most accurate way to describe the camp. Left and right people were falling, taken out by those Robin had called allies.
Ducking to evade a shot taken at him, the tactician sought refuge behind a crate, peering out to survey the field laid out before him. Snow had fallen the night before, coating everything in a layer of white. And no sooner had the Shepherds gotten up had sides been taken.
No doubt that Frederick was gunning for him. After all, Robin had taken our Chrom early on. The vengeful knight had accuracy on top of strength. Fearing that a snowball from Frederick spelled certain doom and pain, Robin decided to avoid the risk of meeting the knight head on. A tactical retreat to the woods would be the best idea. And from the shouting that was going on between the trees, it looked like the combat was moving anyways.
Using his gloved hands to pack a handful of powder together, Robin molded a sphere, his only line of defense in this battle. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself before racing out of his hiding place, running through the heavy snow as a volley of snowballs were launched his way. Blindly throwing his own snowball, he hoped that it would hit his mark.
And it did. Risking a glance over his shoulder, Robin saw that his aim was true, and had nailed Frederick square in the face. The knight wiped the snow away and sent a glare that almost froze the tactician in his tracks.
"PICK A GOD AND PRAY." Roaring over the cries of terror, Frederick mercilessly pelted Robin, managing to return the favor and hitting the tactician's flank several times before he managed to scramble behind a tree.
Grimacing, Robin clutched his side. "That's definitely going to bruise." But he didn't have time to tend to himself. Frederick would soon be on his tail, and who knew what other enemies lurked in these woods?
Trudging carefully through the snow, Robin kept his eye out for any trouble. But only the distant yells of other units reached his ears. It seemed that he'd entered a safe zone of sorts.
Finding a tree stump, Robin took a moment to get his bearings, figuring out his next move. But as he slipped into his own thoughts, he missed the sounds of a projectile whistling through the air. The ball exploded against his temple, and Robin's head rang with the impact.
"This is the end friend!"
Before he could move, an armored projectile slammed into him, knocking the tactician off his feet. He felt his breath leave him, and Robin gasped as he hit the cold snow. Breath coming up as smoke, it took a moment for his eyes to focus. But beaming down at him was Cynthia, who looked too pleased with herself, and had him pinned to the ground by his shoulders.
"Justice always prevails! That's what you get for attacking the Exalt." Smiling, Cynthia gripped him with a bit more force than necessary. "And you've left yourself wide open. Some tactician you are." Stooping down, Cynthia touched the tip of her nose against Robin's own cold one before stealing a swift kiss.
Laughing, she bounded back up, leaving a dazed tactician still on the floor. She disappeared as quickly as she'd swooped in, leaving behind the same quiet that follows a storm. Blinking, Robin gazed into the white treetops, wondering if he'd really just been part of a hit and run. Not that he was complaining.
AN: Request for Guest!
I considered having Frederick find Robin, but that would be too cruel. Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing. Drop a request if you'd like to see certain characters!