Their eyes, though bloodshot and rimmed with fatigue, widened as they took in their approaching comrades. The sight of fellow ratfolk in new armor was an anomaly, a stark contrast to their own battered, stained hides. If only the ceaseless roar of battle allowed for conversation, questions would have erupted: What happened? Where did that armor come from?
But there was no time, no space for words. The overwhelming need to survive, to simply fall back and rest, drove them onward. They retreated, carrying with them the silent hope that one day they would get answers, or perhaps, that a similar, miraculous surprise awaited them back at the camp.
