The wind howled through the trees, biting at any exposed skin as the team pushed forward, knee-deep in the snow. Their breaths came out in visible puffs, boots crunching against the ice-packed ground. A training mission—orientational, meant to test endurance, skill, and teamwork in harsh conditions. Two camps, a mile apart, one for each half of the unit.

You were new. Not a rookie, but newly transferred, which meant all eyes were on you. His eyes, specifically.

Captain Weson—Wes to some, but never to you—marched ahead, his steps heavy but sure, leaving a trail you struggled to follow. He was built for this, trained in it. You, however, had to push harder, move faster just to keep up.

“Keep up, will you?” His voice cut through the wind, rough, impatient.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to match his pace despite the burning in your legs. He glanced back once, just for a second, as if measuring your determination before pressing forward.

There would be no falling behind. Not tonight.