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At her realization she wondered why that was, she tried to think back, about an hour ago she was using her sniper and watching her squad mates retreat, she assumed they didn't have the balls to be out here with the possibility of being killed. She on the other hand made her way closer to the enemy camp, shotgun ready, and decimated it, not really caring what they were fighting for just loving the feeling of the bullet leaving her gun, as she was collecting ammo she had heard shouts in the east and made her way over only to be in the position she was in before, walking around trying to find something to shoot at.
Argus leaned against a tree as he counted out bullets, loading them into half full clips. The faint clink of metal against metal sounded louder than it should. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him. He tried counting so he didn't over-pack his clips, but it seemed as though no matter how diligently he tried to monitor his bullets, the clip was full before he counted off the right number. He pocketed what he could, and moved to another tree. He had to keep moving. Once he wedged up against another tree, he slapped a clip into the carbine. It felt heavy; his arms ached. He had fired so many bullets over the course of the past few days he was rather tired of it. Argus promised himself as soon as he got back home, he'd take his papers and walk.
He couldn't even remember what the war had been about. It started with boarder disputes and then escalated, but right now, he couldn't recount the events that led up to the conflict. He tried to recall the events: several political arguments and meetings, a couple of bombings, an assassination or two. All that had mattered to him was that when the draft happened his number came up. Life was a shit storm ever since boot camp and all the way through deployment.
He let the carbine drop and the gun hung off his shoulder strap as he pulled out the mauser. He repeated the reloading process with his pistol. He had yet to run into anyone on this battle field who was any sort of living. He had come across a few people who were technically still breathing, but the shallowness of their rasps and the condition of their bodies dictated that their time was up. He actually came a cross a man who was walking around with a literal hole in his head; a good portion of his brain was missing. War was a terrible thing.
Izuma was having trouble lining up the shot, he kept moving and bending down to mess with every body, she gave up on the sniper and made her way closer to him trying to tell if he was on her side, when she got closer she saw his uniform, it was nothing like hers, he was wearing black pants and a red and white top, so she assumed he was on the other side of this war. Izuma grabbed her radio and was in the prosses of calling for backup when she realized she had been wondering for hours now, and hadn't seen a single person, except for the dead bodies that she climbed over to keep moving.
Bodies everywhere. That was what it felt like. The forest was littered with bodies of the dead and the dying. Argus wiped his hands on his shirt front as he tried to remove the blood of his squad mate, Hans from his palms. Hans was braver than he. Hans saw the grenade first, he knew what would have happened if he hadn't thrown himself on it. Thanks to Hans, Argus got to live. But why? Why Hans and why not him? Was it the bravery and quick thinking of another that had saved him? Or was it his own cowardice and his desire to live. Was hell the home of the dead, or the emptiness of the battlefield?
He had been wandering for hours, it felt like, scrounging ammo and weapons from the corpses he came across. His rifle barrel had dented on him when the grenade went off and was Argus felt lucky when he found a carbine and mauser pistol on a few corpses And enough ammo for a couple of clips with each. Despite his searching, however, he couldn't find a cantine full enough to fight off the dehydration he felt.
With most of the fighting done on this front, Argus wandered aimlessly. Where was the rest of the platoon? Where were they supposed to rendevous? His mind felt fuzzy as he moved from tree to tree. He had grown tired of fighting and of the death. All Argus wanted was to go home and rest.
[center [size30 Izuma]
Izuma was wandering and watching to see if the battle was over, she was that one girl that had both a shotgun and a sniper, always, but she tended to use her shotgun more any way. She looked around trying to find something to shoot at, she loved the feeling of letting the bullet(s) fly from her guns, it was so exhilarating and scary at the same time. She moved farther along, shotgun ready, and spotted someone a ways away, she made her way closer switching to the sniper and trying to line up a shot.
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