Snowflakes cascaded down from the night sky, and the thick accumulation that should have appeared silver-gray reflected the moonlight tinged with a trace of blood, as if freezing everything in silence. The sounds of treading on the snow and breathing were exceptionally piercing and faint.
If a hardship leaderboard were to be drawn up for the Guerrilla Squad's assorted tasks, standing watch on a snowy night would definitely rank first.
