1944

Rhone, France

Leo

Cold.

Nein, freezing was the best way to describe it.

A white blanket of snow covered the thin trees whose leaves were all worn and covered in frost.

The snow crunched under my boots and I could hear the echo of bells ringing in the distance.

The cold wind nipped at our pale faces as we trudged past snowdrifts, barely able to go on any longer.

“Leo, we need to stop,” Pleaded Sasha, her weather beaten face lined with frostbite hither and thither, her grey eyes staring into my own.

“But we can’t, the nearest village is just a few kilometers away, I promise you!” I insisted, adamant.

“Leo…look at yourself! "She exclaimed, grabbing my hand, shoving it in front of me. My hands felt numb, my skin stretched across my knuckles, as if it were about to break. Sasha’s hands were shivering against my own.

And it all went black.

“Leo…”

“Leo!”

My eyes flickered open to see the ceiling of a house, light emitting from a candle by my side.

I felt wet warmth on my cheek.

But my heart raced, pounding painfully in my chest.

Two figures were perched over me, whispering to each other. The scent of essential oils and herbal remedies seemed to permeate the air.

Soft, yet coarse hands placed a warm towel upon my forehead, and I let out a small sigh of relief.

“Sasha?” I croaked, bleary-eyed.

“Elle n'est pas en danger, ne vous inquiétez pas,”