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[color=Silver]His eyes narrowed considerably noticing that his words left no trace and much more, were entirely ignored by his Lance Corporal. It seemed his conversation with the petite blond held more merit. Which was fine, Miakel thought. But still... Words on deaf ears they say, but much more, it felt no different if Mikael had spoken to the corpses themselves. At least if he did, he felt a sense of validation and purpose, because he would be motivated by sense of prowess and honor he himself befitted worthy. At this juncture, it felt like the winds carried his words and flew them away from his lips like a kite with a broken string. Mikael at the moment felt distant, far more distant that what he had been since the moment he decided to leave home. There were no companions and furthermore he seemed to be the only one who was taking anything with any amount of seriousness. Perhaps it was due to his upbringing, he knew this had to happen and was prepared for the inevitable. Well, it was a simple notion to be frank, they were comrades but they weren't friends. It didn't change the fact that he still needed to aid them in battle. And so, Mikael took it upon himself to not direct another words towards these people, and there when he used the term, [i]these people[/i], was where he noticed how cold his heart sank. But instead his focus was upon the surroundings. Everything was terrible, but it mattered naught what he had to be met with. This was important, again, just by slightly analyzing his situation he realized that the trek up to this point would be arduous. But then again, what did the youth expect? They were at right place of such, at the worst possible interval. 

War felt terrible and Mikael had just started his campaign, he had not have to kill anything yet, he hadn't felt any sort of hunger or irreparable scarring's yet. But he could sense it inching ever closer and such brought his body to quiver. There were nothing he could do but be vigilant and prepared for it. And, as he felt once more like a fool for opening his mouth, he decided not to give it a third attempt and continue further to one of older operatives of the field. [color=9498AF]"Sir!"[/color] The moment a man, dark-skinned, towering a few inches above Mikael in height brandishing his combat knife in hand and rifle on shoulder, heard the voice of Mikael's call he gave him the at-ease command and both began to talk. There was a noticeable gash that marked the man from forehead to cheek, demonstrating the history of a battle well-fought and hard gained. [i]"Huh? You're part of the 15th Atlantic Rifle, correct?"[/i] 

Mikael nodded, leaving his salute behind and promptly responding to the man. [color=9498AF]"Indeed. Private Lauter, at your service. But saying such would feel too much of a commodity at the moment. Feels less like a squad and more like a group. "[/color] The man didn't seem to understand what Mikael was getting at, and so to shine such he brighten his confusion by demonstrating a reflection on the mien by a raise of the brow. Mikael caught the glance and he added [color=9498AF]"I feel like fish out of water."[/color] With such the scarred soldier nodded and threw it as petty squabbles of the new recruits. [i]"Lauter, huh? That name sounds familiar. You have brother's in the force?"[/i] Mikael nodded and further explained the situation to the man, they went to and fro between conversation but finally reached the subject the young Private wanted to talk about. The situation, seems like most were about as knowledgeable about as much as he was, but there were substantial details that could benefit him further beyond. Looking upon the sky the clouds seems sparse and far in between, he couldn't smell beyond the stench of rotten flesh and gun power so he couldn't detect and form of odor that would make him believe it would rain again. Searching the surroundings once more, the mud and dirt seemed still in mush, deep too. Their feet would sink and become heavy upon placement. Meaning that there was a heavy shower constantly pounding at the earth. There seemed to be safe from any upcoming showers, at least for a moment.  

This would be difficult, he needed to adapt to the floor to get a sturdy shot. Maybe he could use a vantage point somewhere with better footing, sadly that would also be troublesome as he would have to weave away from his squad. However, if moments dictate action he would do what must be done. At the moment, he didn't feel like doing something so foolish as disobeying so he strayed back to the squad and began to fiddle with his rifle. Trying to see if anything was out of the ordinary so he could adjust and repair as needed. [/color]