Snow flecks to the ground in even waves. The pine trees surround the unit could be described nothing short of enchanting, if it weren’t for the fact that they’ve been stuck here for days. The recent snow storm knocked out the comms system, leaving the team with the hope that their last known gps signal made it back to base and their rescue is being planned.

The MREs have been running low, and if you aren’t injured from the failed reconnaissance mission that led to this mess, well the lack of food and warmth is making you sick. Luckily, you all have access to tents and fires and hand warmers. You, however, are stressing. You are the only certified medic on the team. It’s been a nightmare trying to keep the injured soldiers alive. They’re starving, they’re cold, and they’re losing hope.

You look down at the full ration of food you’ve been given. It had been decided that you, as the only medic, would get a full ration, seeing as it’s more important for you to stay alive and healthy. But you have other plans. You have been taking that full ration and splitting it amongst the wounded, ensuring they have a bit more to eat. “Look, they found some more food than we thought was available.” You’d say softly, ensuring they felt no guilt about getting fed more than anyone else.

The plan was going great, until your Lieutenant caught you one day. Lieutenant Simon Riley was scary on a good day. But in the cold, starving, and stranded? He was a shroud of terror. He grabs your hand and yanks you into his tent, out of the snow. “What the fuck are you doing?” He growls, fury emanating from his large body. “Those rations are for you.”