"I should probably go ahead to warn them."

Emilie stopped and looked back at Kuhn when he spoke up, who had also halted, allowing a sprinkle of snow to land on his broad shoulders. Her heart sank. He was treating her as though she was an intruder, an unwelcome guest that needed an escort to the camp. But, tight-lipped, she nodded. They had been following the woods around to the German Front, careful to avoid the American line. Now she could see her company, mere black dots in the distance, but there all the same. The sight almost made her run towards them as fast as her legs would carry her. She so desperately wanted to be with them.

He was just preparing to leave, when he turned back, looking her up and down worriedly. She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to speak. "Um, also," he began, using one hand to gesture vaguely towards her. Emilie looked down at her clothes. "You may want to take off that coat. If they think you've been getting more comfort than the rest of us… Well, that may not go down very well. It would be better to show your uniform, if you're still wearing it."

"Comfort?" she snapped, glaring at him incredulously, "Kuhn, you clearly have no idea what I've been through."

"And you'll have your chance to explain just what you've endured," he assured her, speaking slowly and quietly as though she were a moron, "But, please. I know it will be cold, but just for now. Promise me, it's for the best." His brown eyes were almost pleading.

Emilie knew he was right, even if it hurt to admit it. Grumbling to herself, she shrugged out of the coat and was met by even more freezing air than she had already been feeling. "Happy?" She held up the coat, folded it hurriedly and carelessly, and folded it over one of her arms. With a half-smile, Kuhn nodded.

"Wait here," he instructed her, before hurrying away. The snow was soft, not crunchy, and made little sound as he walked. The crackling noise came from his lower pants, which had frozen a little and had a thin layer of ice coating them. She drew in a breath. She really had been living the high life compared to them.

With a small sigh, Emilie hopped backwards on her crutches, distributing some of her weight onto the thin trunk of a tree that she leaned against. Her bones ached with the cold, and she couldn't feel her nose. Lifting a gloved hand, she rubbed at it, trying to get some blood back into it.

It only took about ten minutes until Kuhn came back. But he wasn't alone. He was trailing behind three other armed soldiers, looking at her as though to beg for forgiveness as they pointed their guns at her. Emilie slowly raised her arms over her head in a show of surrender, her crutches resting against her sides.

"Follow us," one of the men, Hinkel, barked. He was standing at the front of the group. Usually, he was funny and kind, always there to cheer you up if you needed it. But now, his eyes were dark and emotionless, lips partially open as though he were a vicious dog preparing to attack with fangs bared. The pale sunlight reflected off the snow underfoot and glistened on his gun that he still had aimed at her.

As Emilie's gaze travelled over the men before her, she felt anger well up inside her when her eyes found Eberhardt, staring at her from just behind Hinkel with a smug expression on his face. But what really caught her off-guard and made her teeth clench together was the fact that, tucked into his uniform's grey jacket, was Edelweiss. The mark of a true soldier. He had no right to be wearing that with such pride; it tarnished the name of every soldier that had worn one before, who had actually been worthy of the symbol.

"Where'd you get that?" she asked, trying her hardest to appear nonchalant and cheerful as she pointed at the white flower. Hinkel's grip on his gun tightened.

Eberhardt glanced down at the Edelweiss, and he smiled. "Oh, this? Well, miss—"

"Sergeant," she corrected him abruptly, irritation at his blatant disregard for her superior rank making her voice come out more harshly than she had intended.

His arrogant smile didn't waver. "Miss," he continued, putting emphasis on the degrading word, "Since you asked so nicely, I got this Edelweiss at the top of the tree line on the Alps. It was hard and tiresome and very physically-strenuous to get it, but, here it is."

Emilie blinked, smirking. "Really? You got it on the Alps? Well, that's funny, because you weren't wearing it last time I saw you, and, unless you've suddenly become the world's fastest runner and nipped over there in a flash, I would say you haven't been to the Alps recently." She returned his obnoxious smile. "Am I mistaken?"

His face fell for the briefest of moments as he seemed to realise the error in his story, but he didn't let it get him down for long. He suddenly seemed so much more confident and self-assured. And she hated him even more for it. "Oh, you got me… What was your name again?" She just glared at him, but he held his ground. "Ah, yes, Demont. Well, silly me! Yes, you're right, I completely forgot. One of my good friends gave it to me."

"Isn't the whole point of it that you have to get it yourself?"

"Well, as you pointed out, I haven't been to the Alps recently, so I haven't gotten a chance to get one for myself. But, since the other soldier thought I was good enough to give it to me, I'll take it that I earned it fair and square."

Before Emilie could retaliate with a snide comment, Hinkel took a step forward, half-masking Eberhardt behind him. "We don't have time for this, Demont. Come with us."

Eberhardt smiled, placing a hand on Hinkel's shoulder. "Relax. All in good time, my friend. There seems to be a lull in the fighting, so no hurry."

No hurry? There was always hurry in war! Caught with your thumb up your ass could mean death, not for just you but for the people around you, too. But she didn't say anything; if they were too stupid to realise they weren't invincible, she wasn't about to point it out to them. Let them learn it the hard way – they should have already, anyway.

To her surprise, Hinkel nodded once and stepped back, eyes still locked on Emilie and his fingers gripping his gun so tight she was sure they would have been completely white, if they weren't concealed by his thick gloves. "Taking orders from a private now, are we?" she asked, more calmly than she felt, raising her eyebrows pointedly at Eberhardt.

"Actually, I'm a corporal now," Eberhardt spoke up, fiddling with the broach on the collar of his jacket that displayed the symbol of a corporal. He wasn't lying, for once. Emilie inwardly chastised herself for not spotting that sooner. But the point still stood: how could a corporal be commanding ranking officers? It made no sense, but, then again, little made sense in war. Still, that didn't make it right.

"Rank doesn't define us," Eberhardt continued, speaking as though he were a politician delivering a speech. Hinkel seemed to lap it up. "No, it is just a word, a symbol, an illusion, if you will. Wouldn't life in the armed forces be so much better if we were all the same?"

"No!" snapped Emilie, forgetting she was supposed to remain calm, to not put any more power into Eberhardt's hands. "Are you kidding me? It would be a riot. And who are you to speak that way? Care to tell me that?"

"I'm the man willing to think outside the box."

"You're no more than a boy!"

It was Kuhn who spoke now, making everyone turn to face him. Eberhardt's piercing gaze lingered on Emilie for a moment longer, making her skin crawl, before his eyes flicked to the other man, too. "We really need to take her back," Kuhn reminded them, frowning though he still seemed rather nervous at interfering with their struggle for dominance.

Emilie raised her head. "I think that's a wonderful idea."