What the old veterans, even her own father (especially her own father), had never thought to tell the swiftly moving farm girl was just [b]how[/b] fast was; one minute she and her fellow scouts had been questioned multiple times by their Sergeant, then what seemed to be only mere moments later they were mounted up and taking part in a cavalry charge encompassing the entire strength of D Troop.

How, Anja repeated in her own head, even as the wind whipped her flesh and her thighs tightened around the flanks of her mount, did everything move so very fast and yet [i]at the same time[/i] slow down so that one could see everthing - the twisted faces of ones comrades-in-arms, the shimmering glitter of drizzle and cold air on the curved blades of drawn sabres, glinting brass helmets and drooping plumes, and the very breath of man and beast leaving their bodies and dissipating into the ether.

Truth be told she couldn't even remember the screams of the violated woman, returning to Hecht and their Captain with all they had seen, or even the note of the bugle that shattered the silence and sent them forward on this crazed endeavour... but here she was, here and now, her carbine remaining inside its holster on her saddle while her sabre felt like a lead weight in her hand.

Trying to show some sense of proper form - though her back remained somewhat bent - Anja thrust her sword forward with one outstretched arm, retaining control of her steed with the other hand, her mind telling her that Hecht, boyish Teddy and straight-laced Simone were supposed to be around her; it was more than a surprise then when she peered about as she entered the village proper, powder and dirt rising to obscure her vision even further, and found only the swirl and crush of bodies and her closest friends nowhere to be seen.

"To the guns!" Came a shout from somewhere nearby, uniforms of Rhaetian green gathering around a focal point in front of her, Anja urging her horse toward the gap, "the gun! Halt the cannon! For Rhaetia!"

"For Rhaetia!" Screamed Anja, her mouth caught in an elongated scream as the group streamed toward the bridge aross the river and the Canary cannon, but unable to see and almost deafened by the noise all around her she could not have realised what was about to happen. None of them could. Until it did.


[Centre]******[/centre]


The world exploded and for the longest time Anja thought she was dead, her clothing torn to tatters, the bodily matter of a dozen of her Rhaetian brethren covering her, and her hearing no more than constant high-pitched whistling.

This was until she hit the freezing cold water of the river - having been pitched over the side of the bridge when anothers horse hammered into her own - her body numbing with the cold and the impact, water causing her throat to constrict as she swallowed blood and liquid, her flailing arms dragging her up the surface.

Ultimately, and with her mind rattling inside her skull and her entire body shaking, Anja pulled herself onto the riverbank and rolled onto her back, blankly staring up at the sky even as others continued to die around her.