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Ivan suddenly jerks his head in Boris' direction. To his great pleasure things seemed much easier now. He looks to Kalliope. "C'mon! This is our way out!" He shouts to Kalliope before darting in Boris' direction, almost completely forgetting Kalliope's presence.

Still confused over the ox, Calliope shakes her head and runs the same way as Ivan. She has always been a good runner, but the snow has made the road long and slippery. It is just waiting for someone to fall and twist an ankle. And she is determined that is not going to be her.

Thus concludes the first chapter
Chapter Two - Whitedale

The Militia takes a bit of time, to fully recover from the Bovine counter assault. The Oxen tore gaps into their ranks along the road, a fair fifty were slain in the stampede as it were. The town has now been razed twice - The second left a gory mess of hoof-prints, and crushed men in weak armor. The Tavern would have been burned, after everyone made their retreat. Just for good measure, it would have seemed almost a cursed place, given it was the source of all the mayhem. In, their eyes, at least.

The Sargent, Carmichael, regards his full force of men with anger. They should have been able to handle cows, they handled those guards well enough. And where did those five gate guards go? He would have no words. He was furious. He simply stood before his force of men with a reddened face, piercing eyes, and a hand clenched intensely around the handle of a pilfered longsword.

He takes some time, before he is able to speak to one of the men, a higher officer, yet below him in rank.

Sargent: "At least, tell me the goods made it safely back to the Captain.."

Soldier: "Aye. Don't worry about that.."

Sargent: "I am worried about that. When did the weapons arrive, hm?"

Soldier: "Early yesterday morning, sir."

Sargent: "The prisoners? They weren't intercepted on their way back, were they?"

Soldier: "No, sir."

Sargent: "Good. We'll need the miners.."

Meanwhile, the others would have made headway, in the Chaos. Drake, Ivan, Kalliope, Tarben, and Boris. With the Oxen cleared, they would at the very least been able to head further north safely. The immediate danger has passed, at least. After some time, they would have to come to a stop in their flight. Fortunately, they had a clean escape, with no pursuers. Yet.

Yet, these snowy hills bare more dangers, than just ruthless men.

It was getting dark. It was getting cold. The snow had started to pick up again.

Boris, with Chauncey at his heels, presses forward. He would not have spoken much up until this point, beyond urging people onward. The area is mountainous, which meant there would be caves. Though they weren't always a favorable place to make refuge, they were certainly better than trying to stand out in another blizzard. One such cave, he points out (After noting it doesn't smell like feces, or dead animals. Two signs that the cave would be occupied) "This way!" he calls out as he takes the lead into the cave, trying to beat the storm to the punch. Though the entrance was a bit narrow, the inside of the cave would be roomy. Enough so for everyone to sit comfortably (Though when time for sleep came, it would be likely that they would accidentally touch elbows with one another. Boris tosses a lot.)

To Recap:

Kalliope: Carrying with her the clothes on her back, and a few scriptures. These things are useful for village life, but less so for survival. Having covered herself in blood earlier, this would be frozen to her by this point.

Ivan: Suffered a blow to the nose. He was given a rag to clean the blood, and may have along the way if he stopped running for a moment or two. But if he didn't, this to would be frozen to his face. He is carrying with him a few weapons of his own, his armor, and Sargent Bradley's sword, a nothing special long sword.

Drake: Helmet horribly dented, probably rather uncomfortable to wear. Likely the most fatigued of the group, do to the prolonged fighting, and stone hurling. His chest armor would be a bit scuffed, but he is otherwise unharmed. Perhape his mule has something in its saddlebags of interest, but this is known only to him. The mule will not fit inside the cave.

Tarben: Carrying only the clothes on his back, and the knowledge of Carmichael's plot to assault the village of whitedell. Like Kalliope, he to is covered in the blood of another, which has now frozen to the skin it contacted. Not to mention his head injury, mixed with the cold, which is likely starting to make him feel woozy.

Boris: Carrying a bit of survival gear on him - He's always ready for things like this.

He enters into the cave, with his mule waiting outside. He looks around, seeing that the cave is a decent size, and mostly dark, he goes back outside to his mule. He opens the travels bags, and gets out some pelts, he wraps some of the pelts around the mule's legs, and ties them with some rope, as well as putting some on it's head and hide to keep it at least slightly warm during the night. He also takes out a iron mallet and goes back into the cave, sits down, takes off his helmet, and begins hitting the inside of his helmet.

She enters the cave, shivering because of the cold, frozen blood. If she had another dress, she would have changed as fast as she could. Sitting with someone else's blood on her, makes her feel dirty and a bit sick. She sits on the rather cold floor of the cave, and looks at the others. "Any broken limbs or bigger injuries?" she asks. She worked as a nurse in her orphanage from she was 10 til she turned 17. She did have a basic knowledge of curing people.

Ivan hesitates for a second as they come across the cave. He was certainly used to sleeping in caves, yet the whole idea seems almost foreboding for him. He directs his horse next to Drake's mule, where his horse begins sniffing the mule and the like. He turns his head to Kalliope. "Uh, nothing too serious m'lday." Ivan comments as he removes his helmet and pulls down his hauberk to where his nose could be seen. He massages it a bit before pulling it back up. He walks to Drake. "May I use some of your pelts? My horse needs some as well... if you don't mind..."

"Go ahead, just take some out of the bags." He continues hammering out the dents in his helmet. Having strips of drying meat stitched onto the travel bags, looks rather strange to say the least. Some folk would call it "shoddy".

Boris settled into the farthest wall of the cave, gently petting his dog's snout as he considered what to do from here. It was getting dark, and cold. But he knew none of them had eaten recently. The lack of food would kill them slower, than the lack of warmth. But no death was one favorable. Thus, Boris took it upon himself, to head towards the cave entrance again. He tests the string on his bow before stepping out, "Going to hunt down some food.. One of you, try and get some firewood before it gets too dark to see. I'll set a few snares, so we can eat in the morning. But we need fire now." with that, the mountain man heads strait back out, into the cold.

"Thank you very much." Ivan quickly scoots to Drake's mule and searches through the bags. He was a little confused as to which of the bags to look through, but in due time, he found what he was looking for. "Ah!" Ivan exclaims. "Perfect..." Without further hesitation nor forethought, he ties the pelts around his horse's legs. After having done so, he strokes the horse's snout. "At a boy."

Ivan then turns his attention back to the Boris, who was just about to go out to find some food. Funny... he almost completely forget he was starving, having not eaten anything for a day and a half. His stomach growls. "Ah... crap..." He exclaims as he treks a little further inside the cave. "Ah yes... Um... I know how to cut down a tree, but I need an axe which I haven't got with me at the moment." He looks at the others. He looks to Tarben but realises that he hasn't got anything useful on him. He looks to Kalliope and realises she's also got nothing useful on her. But then he looks to Drake. "Hm... my good man? I hate to ask so much from you, but... do you have a hatchet or something?"

"I do not have anything useful for cutting down a tree." she says. "But I know how to built a fire, and we can use some of the scriptures to light it." sacrificing the scriptures would hurt, but if she could use them to help or even save the others, it would be worth it.

After having made his helmet almost dent free, he puts it back on and walks out of the cave, over to his mule, and searches through it's bags. "I am pretty sure that I have something like that in here..." He takes out a strange looking tool, it looks like a hatchet, but on the other side of the head is what looks like to be a shovel head. "Will this do?"

Ivan looks at the 'hatchet' in confusion. He's sure he hasn't seen anything like this before, but if it could cut wood, then it's good enough for him. "Da, thank you." He gently grabs the axe from Drake's grasp and looks back at the other survivors. "Will everyone be alright while we're gone?" He asks.

Tarben had thus far remained mostly silent.
A great many question dominated his mind, each coming to the front as primary only to be replaced by the next most dire wondering.
However, despite the cold that numbed him, and despite the manner in which his body shook, and despite the weariness that recent circumstance had left to him, he still did not truly think of aught save the fate of the Ymir and his daughter.

He enters the cave as soon as its refuge is provided, doing so with the obeisance of a lost lamb.
And that is what he felt like.
He was akin to a lost and lonely sheep, and all about him stood wolves of grey and white and brown, their teeth gleaming of silver or blood.

Kalliope was not one such wolf, he felt, and yet he was wary of her.
Nary a word had he spoken to her, and he remained both close and afar from her person, lest she judge him for his previous cowardice. His selfishness in preserving himself over attempting to free her from the clutches of Ivan, whom was of the white wolves in the boy's thinking.

Once settled in the cave, he would simply wait.
He would hardly desire conversation, just as he hardly desired warmth though he loathed the cold.
He wanted a private moment in which to consult Boris, the only of whom he trusted and whom he trusted to know more than himself.

The frozen blood on her clothing made her shiver, even though the wind could reach them anymore. Her teeth chatter slightly, and she hugs herself for more warmth. She has ditched the cape she wore. It was more frozen than warming. Instead she used it as pillow to protect her sore body from the hard cave floor.

He digs through his bags once more, grabbing a small barrell, and a stone made of flint. He heads back inside of the cave. "I don't know if anyone's hungry right now, but I sure am. I've got a bit of jerky if anyone wants some." He places the barrel down on the ground and opens it up, revealing strips of various colored dried meat. "It isn't much, but it's better than nothin'."

Boris has spent some time, by this point, setting up very simple snare traps in the woods nearby. A few snares, and a few deadfall traps, both of which would find them small game if they were to be effective, come morning. A grand total of twelve would litter the landscape, covering easily seen game trails. He would have also happened by a small bush of edible berries. They were not tasty, a bit bitter, but they were edible. He plucks a few handfuls of them, and stuffs them into his satchel. Perhaps come morning, he can try for more sufficient sustenance.

Satisfied, and also out of rope small enough for this endeavor, Boris wandered back to the cavern. His dog would have never left the cave, so he was perhaps most enthusiastic about reuniting with Chauncey again.

Upon entering the cave, Boris would dig into the satchel on his hip once again, and present the berries to everyone, "Share." He says simply. "You'll need some kind of strength for tomorrow."

The chock is slowly leaving Kalliope, leaving her with the trauma, sorrow and disgust. Both the smell of jerky and the sight of the berries is enough to make her nauseous. "Thank you, dear sirs." she says to both Boris and Drake, as she tries to keep herself from throwing up. "I'll pass on the kind offers." she says, while she tried to control her shivering. "I'll try to get some rest, until we will be able to build a fire." she adds.

"We can use some of the jerky as tender for the fire if need be." He takes off his helmet, grabs a strip of the jerky, and two of Boris' berries, he takes a bite out of the jerky and pops a berry into his mouth, making a not so tasty combination of flavors once he notices the berry is bitter. "That's some... strong stuff you got there Boris."

Ivan had spent at least a half an hour outside and away from the survivors. He had taken his horse with him in order to carry more of the load. Since it being winter, he managed to come across a lot of dead tress, perfect for cutting down and using for firewood. He had difficulty getting used to Drake's tool he had been given, but in due time, he managed to feel more comfortable with it. After having gathered the necessary firewood for the fire, he parks his horse outside the cave and takes down the bits of wood from the side of his horse. "I'm back!" He shouts as he brings the wood into the cave, and sets it in the middle. "Ah! Boris... you've brought food."

"Don't get too excited. It'll sate you, but only if you can stomach it." he sends a wink to Ivan, offering him a few of the unpleasant berries, "I set out a dozen snares, we may just have us something to eat come morning. We'll see, though. Hare is more pleasant than these.." he says in indication to the berries.