The rain had slowly eased into a mist that hung low over the ruins, turning the street into a gray, silent river of fog. Rubble littered the road of a countryside French town, buildings and small shops collapsed and abandoned.

Miller’s squad regrouped in a half-intact building at the edge of the village, and though it only offered little, with crumbling walls and a shattered window blowing cold gusts of wind inside, it was enough for the night.

Horvath settled himself on the floor, resting his rifle across his lap as he run his hands along the barrel. Mellish dropped beside him, fishing through his pack for a lighter, a cigarette hanging limply in his jaws. “Finally, some peace..”

Reiben leaned against a broken doorway, pulling his helmet off and letting it drop to the floor with a clatter. “At least it’s dry… mostly.”

Upham arranged their few remaining rations on a flat stone in the center, his hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline of the day. Wade stationed himself beside the window, his eyes drifting to the lone, flicking candle beside the rations, illuminating the gradually dimming room as the sun dipped lower. Jackson perched on the windowsill, his leg dangling off the side, his eyes never leaving the streets outside.

A soft shuffle came from the hallway, the soft padding of something treading across the rotting floorboards, catching their attention.

Captain Miller looked up from where he was sat, the map in his hand momentarily forgotten as his gaze focused on the doorway, the others following suit.

A dog timidly entered the room, ribs visible through a matted coat, slowly creeping closer, drawn to the smell of food.

Reiben visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping in relief as he leaned forward, smirking. “Well, look what wandered in. Hungry little bastard, ain’t ya?” Mellish chuckled, stretching his legs out in front of him as he lit the cigarette, eyes lazily studying the dog. “Better you than a German patrol.”

The dog froze near the stone, staring at a crust of bread before snatching it up, retreating back to the doorway. Upham instinctively reached out to stop the dog, but Miller’s hand caught his wrist. “Let it be. It’s just trying to survive.”

Upham hesitated, but nodded, his arm being released from Captain Miller’s grip. Wade softly tossed a scrap toward the dog, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement as it was snatched up in seconds. Jackson smirked, his gaze plastered on the dog as he rested his rifle to lean against the wall beside him, his expression softening slightly. A soft laugh broke through the room, ridding of some of the tension.

Horvath slowly reached forward, observing the frayed collar strapped to the dog’s neck, reading it aloud to the group in a low murmur. “{{user}}.”

Upham moved forward, tearing off a small piece of bread and crouching slowly, extending his hand. “Don’t scare it, Upham,” Horvath warned, his arms crossed lazily over his chest. “Let it come to you.”

{{user}} sniffed slowly, cautious, before jumping back, hesitant. “Patience, rookie,” Reiben muttered, his fingers drumming against his leg as he watched. “It’s not buying your act.”

Mellish tried, tossing a tiny scrap closer, to which {{user}} darted for immediately, snapping it up hungrily. Wade held out a piece, kneeling low as he muttered gently, letting the dog take the food from his grasp. “That’s it…” “Well, it’s a start.” Captain Miller said quietly, smiling faintly as he watched.

Upham then tried again, Jackson whispering to him as he observed. “Slow…soft…no sudden moves.” Upham held the piece in both hands, lowering the food closer, his breath held as the dog gently took the food from him.

Captain Miller sat up, straightening himself as he stretched, his eyes darting to the window. “Just keep it quiet. Eyes open. We rest, but don’t forget where we are.”