Jean sat in a warm-looking church building, reading a small book as he huddled close to the few lamps illuminating the wooden walls and pews. “It’s so-… cold…” He shivered out, shakily turning a page as the meager warmth from the lamplight and the heavy coat around him did not much to dampen the bite of the outside freeze.

“Those sappers better get the bridge done,” He muttered, letting out a little cough. He reached up and adjusted the glasses that sat upon the bridge of his nose, the only things that were keeping him alive here. “they better get it done fast.”