The bombs raining down around them, each one just a rain drop in a storm. Thousands of explosions rocketing around the soldiers. Everything around them is obliterated, hard-packed dirt becoming just dust in the wind.

She doubts she'll make it out alive, but Primrose isn't afraid. She knows everything is over, that this is the end of everything she's ever known. Screams echo around her, a crescendo of agony and pain, not of sweet music notes. She trudges on, not daring to turn around.

She is a nurse. But there is no saving the soldiers.

She falls, knowing she will not again rise. Tears well in her eyes, then she is still.

For Iris. Hope you're getting more snow than I am (but in the meantime, you have been pegged with my finest snowball), and merry Christmas!