Night had fallen over the military outpost and cold winds whistled through the gaps in the makeshift wooden walls around the outpost, carrying with themselves the faint scent of smoke and blood.
Allen sat near one of the larger campfires with a simple tin container cradled in his hands that was filled with the same thin watery soup he had eaten before the battle had started.
A few other soldiers were also scattered around the fire, they were like hunched figures staring blankly into the flames with a blank expression on their faces.
It was the same spot where he had sat just hours earlier while listening to the soldiers laugh and gossip amongst themselves as they enjoyed each other's company.
But the atmosphere now was completely different. The casual chatter was gone and was replaced by a heavy and oppressive silence.
No one spoke anything. No one laughed. Even the crackle of the fire seemed unnaturally loud in the uncomfortable silence that was lingering in their surroundings.
