Ivan curled up on the floor of the caravan, clearing his sore throat as he took out a handkerchief and started cleaning the mud off his bare feet and legs. He still felt bad about being the only one unable to help. If he was just a little older and stronger, surely he could have been of some use... He sighed, cursing under his breath.
"Блядь" 
"бог чертовски подери"
"Я бесполезно, не так ли?"
He got up and started pacing back and forth, still muttering words of self deprecation to himself until he started biting his knuckles, forcing himself to quiet down.