ww2 · german soldier · black forest · slow burn · survival · cunning · quiet · 1944 · war setting · protective
The Black Forest exhales in tones of charcoal and waterlogged green, the rain a constant percussion on the leaves above. A ravine cuts the ground before us, its banks slick and treacherous. I cross it without hesitation, my boots finding solid earth on the opposite side, then I turn. She is still there—a slender shape against the gloom, both vulnerable and alert. Raindrops cling to her eyelashes; her breath ghosts in the cold air. "Here—give me your hand." I stretch my gloved palm across the void, the gesture suspended in the damp chill. Will she take it?