[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/181006/65f72a3cd34c2c7654bb5f6d50902531.png[/img][/center][right][hr][b][color=white]Garnian Salient[/color][/b]
[color=gray]Rear Lines[/color]
[sub][@Deadnaut][/sub][hr][/right][indent][color=85C7B9][i]I suppose you can't ever have enough mud.[/i][/color]

Adjusting to the military lifestyle was difficult for a girl who had lived most of her life on a farm. The waking crow of a rooster was replaced with the sound of a bugle, daily chores were now running obstacle courses and learning how to shoot a rifle, and mama's dinner had been swapped with standardized rations. Whatever destiny Kirsi had had turned her life upside down, though she chose to persevere for her parents. Her mother would likely be fine if Kirsi turned out to be a failure, but what about her father? Giving up would surely damage his pride more than ever, especially when Kirsi finally had the chance to make her parents proud.

The trip to the front lines had been rough for Kirsi, though more so in a figurative sense. With her homeland being well under the control of the Imperials at this point in the war, Kirsi felt her worries gnaw away at her thoughts. Of course, she was smart enough to keep her worries well hidden from her superiors, yet the Asseni could not help but wonder the fate of her countrymen. The fate of her beloved parents. The fate of her childhood home.

She had to find out before it devoured her whole, but regardless, Kirsi knew she'd be returning home one day—either a victor, or a [i]loser[/i].

Not long after the remainder of the 15th Atlantic Rifles arrived, the platoon was called to attention, just like one of the many parade nights in training from before. Kirsi was still somewhat sleepy-eyed from the early morning wake up call, though the weather was there to keep her awake. The abysmal temperature nipped at her skin, sending shivers down her spine, and the fact that Kirsi was forced to stand on cold, muddy ground wasn't much of a help, either. Thankfully, their superior seemed to be inclined to [i]not[/i] keep them there long, as the platoon was supposed to head to the front lines in the next few hours.

The attitude of the First Lieutenant was stiff and serious, seemingly contrary to some of the NCOs he listed off. If anything, Kirsi figured their commanding officer had been a veteran—someone who has likely killed one or more Imperials in this godforsaken war. Still somewhat listening to the First Lieutenant, Kirsi began to wonder if she'd be able to look another person in the eye, even if they were technically considered enemies, and gun them down with her rifle. Kirsi was no killer, roaming the trenches as death incarnate; no, she was just a simple farm girl.

Could a simple farm girl so freely take a life, only to save her own and her companions? Darcsen or not, the Imperials were as human as Kirsi was. Someone that had family and friends, just like Kirsi. They probably had a lover waiting for them to return, too. A sweetheart waiting for their beloved to walk down that village road one more time, thanking whatever god(s) they had that their lover made it home from the war safe and in one piece, which by now, was often an understatement.

Those that went to war were often considered brave heroes, but there was a lingering doubt in Kirsi that she would feel like a hero by the end of the war—if she even survives to the end, that is.

After his speech, the First Lieutenant began to dismiss the platoon by groups. They were going to stick around the rear lines for just a bit longer, therefore the platoon was free to interact with each other. Looking around, Kirsi saw some of the group already splintering, with one going straight to the NCOs and another asking one of the platoon's sappers to inspect her service weapon. Nonetheless, out of the entire platoon, one of her fellow soldiers had caught Kirsi's eye in particular.

Kirsi hadn't known the girl's name, but she was quite like the Asseni in multiple ways. From first glance, the girl seemed to be around the same age and was roughly the same height as Kirsi. Even down to their body frame the two girls were similar, with each appearing lean and hardly well-developed. Was she just another unfortunate soul like Kirsi, swept up by the war and sent to die for a cause they had no control over? Probably, but that seemed to be the case for most people on the front lines, conscripted and taken away from their homes to fuel the Federation's war effort.

Noticing the girl had yet to move towards anyone in particular, Kirsi decided that it was better to start up a conversation or two rather than standing around like an idiot. [color=85C7B9][b]"So, what brings you here?"[/b][/color] Kirsi asked, watching the rest of the platoon. [color=85C7B9][b]"Did you win an all expenses paid trip to here like the rest of us? I hear the reviews are absolutely [i]shocking[/i]. Explosive, even."[/b][/color]

Despite waiting for the girl to reply, Kirsi's thoughts were already filled with disaster. Would the girl appreciate Kirsi's dumb humor? Was it appropriate to lead with humor? Agh, why was making small talk with someone you wanted to get to know so hard?![/indent]