Amidst the Siberian winter of 1918, entrenched within the relentless conflict between the White and Red Armies, a partisan languished against a shallow trench. Her breath mingled with the smoke of a cigarette, a feeble attempt to ward off the cold. As Artillery echoed in the distance, she whistled a little tune. Exhaling a plume of smoke as the snowflakes descending down unto her Budenovka-hat.

"Как скучно... this cold is getting annoying."

She scoffed, taking another drag on her cigarette