The ruins of what once could be recognized as the Coffee Village turns the scenario of a melancholic frozen land to a winter horror.

[...]

The corpses of cookies, covered with raspberry jam, lay around, either motionless or slowly giving themselves into the exhaustion of impotence.

The remaining thieves run away, the Dark Cacao warriors stand strong, majestic and victorious, yet, so bitter and mourning.

---

Even with the victory against Dark Enchantress Cookie's troops, a whole mass of defenseless cookies was dismissed from existence.

The coffee cookies remaining were the ones who left the village before the incident for whatever reasons, the town is no more.

"Troops, treat to the wounded and start marching back towards the citadel." The king commanded, his voice gruff, veiled with tiredness.

[...]

The soldiers look around, accessing the damage with sighs of disappointment before giving in to their king's orders and picking up the wounded and crumbled.

The caravans, filled with armory now head back, led by their horses, to the kingdom standing by the seashore.

The king stays back for a few minutes more, his presence a sincere apology to all the lives he wasn't able to save.

---

Somewhere else middle the rubble, small hands push off big pieces of heavy dark chocolate wood.

The little cookie trembles, trying their best to climb and worm out of the debris. With the eye that remains working, they look around the damage, their heart stilling on their chest.

The pain on their midriff is unbearable and nauseating, they can't feel their right leg nor see with their left eye.

[...]

Soft, pitiful rain falls from above as well with the tears of the only remaining of the raid. Barely out of their 10 years of life.

Whatever will they do now? There's nowhere to go, walking is not an option and no one is around to help.

Is this it?