Even digressions take steps.

My vision bounced lightly, splits of a tree into threes, three bodies of one person, and three pillars of black smoke from the collapsed cavern growing like a mushroom into the showering grey sky.

Mud slithering into my boots, my toes curling into slops of my feet to keep my veins from pulling out my calves.

Early spring rain cooled the air, and my hair stood up from each icy touch of the sky pattering against my elk-pelted breastplate, drowning my ears with a light squeak that just constantly rang in my head.

From a way of the cave, our sentinels came to aid our survivors.

They could barely stand,

Some on all fours contracting into balls, from my ringing ears they gave soft hums to themselves, others standing at least long enough till they gave out from their legs collapsing into the coming sentinels aiding and dragging them off from the soppy ground, trailing their path with soaked earth and grass.

Some were either breathing too fast their chest rising and falling, others not at all, but they all shook profusely from what I know isn't the cold. 

"Sir!"

This ringing in my ear hasn't faded it's just screeching reminding me of her filthy laughter! I'm becoming dizzier, there are now three clouds of ashes in the air giving my eyes a blanket of black smoke, and my stomach is coming up to my throat, 

"Sir! Sir, are you alright? How many fingers am I holding up!"

I'm drifting into a deep warmth coming behind my head, my hand couldn't resist knowing what it was. Oh, my hand is red now. It could have always been this red.

"Sir! Sir!" a roaring crackle struck the ground a ways from me, flashes before my eyes.

 "We need more grenades!"

The sentinels pried open our wooden box crates pulling out bandoliers of grenades and tossing them to the row of sentinels running across the muddy field and taking up their ropes drooping down the rocky hills they had used to take the cave,

"You eight up on that bloody hill!",

"Sir! What the hell happened? Damn it, he's shocked! Get the horses and carts ready! We got to drag these men onto them now!" said a sentinel who sat me down and wrapped bandages onto my head. Then ran towards the other men with med crates.

"We're running out of time! Sir! Sir, count my fingers come on!" Another sentinel then grabbed a hold of me

escorting me onto our wagons, I've become a useless casualty.

"They got battalions coming Northeast of the forest! Come on!" Yelled a sentinel organizing others, their shoulders strapped with the leather straps of their muskets running up towards Rocky Hill. 

"Captain!" cried out Lawson, trembling as he spoke to me Placed across from me on the wooden carriage.

"What the hell was all of that? What the hell happened to us? Are they coming?" He yelled to me his hands clasping together shook, his tears streaming from his bloodshot eyes, he hadn't blinked. And off we went, the wagon was filled with other men, the one beside Lawson held his eye in agony leaning forward and stomping the floor wood boards.

I took a moment to answer, my head still bouncing, I didn't want to breathe anymore, but I had no reason not to, so I inhale the cool wet air, I am alive. As I took a breath, my head tranquilized, and I spoke.

"The cave collapsed, Lawson," I kept my voice steady and low. "We're going to have to take it slow from here."

Private Lawson's teeth rapidly clap into each other looking towards his fellow men and then back to me, I couldn't understand why I felt guilty looking at him...

No, I know why.

"Hey.", The clown he was back at the barracks is gone now, he was so full of spunk, he often used this one training technique he took from our Major, tying foxes together, as brass as it was.

He'd unleashed them onto the newer recruit's cabin and made them catch it or it was swine bathing for all of them, It tore bedsheets, they had even to push over each other's bunks, and the recruits had to exchange clothes several days every time because they'd have each other's shirts and socks and underwear, causing a huge mess. It was funny. Then he was easier to see.

Now he's the reflection of my weakness, my arrogance, my failure, if I reach out and hold his shoulder, what little help will it give?

The Captain reached out and held Lawson by his shoulder,

"There now, Lawson, nothing should get through. Our route was sent off all that time ago so the odds are they managed to clear a good enough path back home. We're going to make it with the rest of the Caravan heading back to base you'll see."

From what my face was worth I felt the edge of lips lift but was there even a smile, I don't know, Lawson's shaking at least slowed for a while.

And then from a whistling swish from the forest,

An arrow stuck out Lawson's head. The wagon began to move, just across from Reynolds his soldier's body slowly dropped.

"Up top the bloody hills now!" More gunfire blew and the wagon took off, Lawson's eyes were wide open, shining light from the trail of tears he had upon is cheeks, "Hiva Notemus Aleva!" A Babylonian with a golden spear raised his over his head with a shield and yelled up top of the hills, pitting his spear end towards the site "Hargaaaa!" he yelled sending forward a mass of horsemen, More Arrows blew from out the from the forest.

As Reynolds was exported away, his teeth clenched, his eyes furrowing as a falcon's watch! Babylonian horsemen raced towards the wagon, and as the arching horsemen strung his bow, Reynolds drew his flintlock and yelled "Azumuerte!" and sent off two shots erupting out of the horsemen's necks throwing them off their horse.

"Faster!" he yelled reloading his six chambers, and aimed for more horsemen,

"Hyah!"

More horsemen approached from each side and shot their arrows, Reynolds ducked while the arrow hit the wagon's base.

Reynolds rose up from cover and an arrow flew past his head, he shot and shot until One of the horsemen threw what appeared as a bundle of bottles and when it struck the Wagon liquid poured all over its base, then multiple flaming arrows flew, and struck the wet parts, and out blew a roaring flame, Reynolds dove back from the fire beginning to spread, some of the survivors were lit on fire and began jumping off the wagon, then from up ahead of the Path multiple spearmen tossed their spears at the Wagon rider they began stabbing the rider and his horses, causing the whole wagon to tip and crash into the ground. 

From the ground, Reynolds was buried underneath the torn planks and other men from the wagon. Shrouded with the sound of his men's screams, mercilessly executed.

He got up and made a dash toward the woods, the mushy ground squelching beneath his feet's clops, the sound mingling with the haunting screams of his comrades.

His mind raced with sheer concentration as all he could understand was the now occurring sights he was seeing as he ran away, seeing the grey sunless post-storm light, the darkened green vines and moss, the blackened tree bark, and sloshes of mud ahead of him. His senses heightened, every rustle of leaves, every snap of branches, the mud amplified in his mind, urging him to move faster, evading capture.

then, a cacophony of his footsteps was drowned out by the thunderous beats of his attackers. One attack from a horse, nearly grabbing him with a lasso until the horse got caught in deep mud; toppling over while another fast runner lunged at him grabbing onto Reynolds, they both fell as the Babylonian grabbed onto his pouch and spun as 

 they were collapsing, the pursuer held Reynolds' clothes, tightly gripping as he tried to bring him down, Reynolds nearly falling took his flintlock topped the runner, sticking his barrel into the attacker's eye, then shot breaking loose from his pursuer's wrists.

Others quickly ran through the forest's misty fog, The pursuit behind him diminished, the echoes of his pursuers growing fainter with each passing moment as he ran further and further away.

Desperate and breathless, he plunged deeper into the woods, his movements guided by nothing but mindless struggle. Finally, finding a mound with a small hole, Reynolds collapsed against a tree trunk beside it, his body trembling with exhaustion and fear. He sank to the ground, his breaths ragged and covering his mouth with a cloth to keep silent from his raspy muffles, coughing amidst the natural camouflage of branches, mud, and leaves.

In the dim light filtering through the dense canopy above, he whispered hoarsely to himself, his voice laden with despair and anguish. "Beelzebub has cursed us all," he muttered, his words a lamentation With no energy left to sustain him, his tears mingling with the rain-soaked earth beneath him.