IT WAS TIME.  As Henry and Julian ceased their conversing and prepared to brace the bitter cold--both of nature and their future missions--the latter held back his breath, trying to drown an anxious sigh.  Julian returned to his seat, thinking about the pilot's words.  He retrieved a large black overcoat that he'd taken off during their flight;  It kept him warm, perhaps too warm, but now it was the only comfort item that would steady his nerves.  Julian worried incessantly, a variety of dark thoughts plaguing his mind.

Rachel's call to her comrades cause him to snap back from the brink.  It anchored him, and he silently thanked her for it.  As the transport door opened, Julian growled under his breath and held his bowler hat tightly with his right hand, his carry-on in his left hand.  He marched straight into the whiteness, keeping pace with Rachel and Henry--he wasn't about to be left behind.  Like Rachel, he also felt that they should stick together, for better or for worse.  This entire ordeal felt strangely like the starting events of a wedding ceremony, not that Julian had any idea of what a wedding was like, nor the after-effect of marriage.  Regardless, he was determined to care about his comrades even if he had to embrace his deepest fears a thousand times over. 

[color=39b54a][i]'At least Henry and Rachel seem to care,'[/i][/color] Julian mused, eyeing the motto in the distance.  He could barely read it, but as he squinted in vain to clutch at clarity, he noticed that Henry began breaking off from the group.

Glancing between Rachel and the others and the brave (he was truly brave, Julian felt), he decided to stay on track with the group.  His pace did start to slow though, and he licked his lips as he watched Henry do whatever it was that he was doing.  He really couldn't make out the thing in the ground, but the war whooping outright startled Julian.  He even chuckled a little in spite of his fear, trying to feign confidence.  As Henry returned, his words of warning presented a logical conundrum to Julian.  But he dismissed it just as quickly as he had thought of it--in short, that the wind and snow would bury the ritual marker and render it effectively lost to them. He then changed his mind and would ask him anyway.

Deciding to trust Henry would not look at him stupidly, Julian asked, [color=39b54a]"Well, uh, Henry, what about the wind? A-And the snow?  Won't it bury the--oh."[/color]

Julian could see more clearly now, the marker was taller than it had appeared at first to him.  Chuckling and muttering 'never mind', he emphasized his dismissal of his question with a hand wave and head shake.  Turning back towards the group and joining them, Julian chided himself.  [color=39b54a][i]'Stupid!'[/i][/color]