Green Valor

Woody and Skully

As they trudged through the snow, the horse's hooves crunching beneath them, the group's banter filled the cold air. Blade, riding next to Alec, looked over and smirked. "So, what's your name, tough guy?" he asked, his tone almost mocking.
Alec, struggling to keep his balance on the horse, straightened up as best he could. His voice was tired but firm. "I am Alec Bulka! A former Cordero super soldier from Team Alpha 1."
Blade rolled his eyes at the grandiose introduction. "Alright, Rick, you definitely don't belong here."
"My name is Alec!" Alec huffed, clearly frustrated.
Before he could say more, Diana, one of the riders, shoved him off the horse with a rough push. Alec hit the ground with a grunt, quickly scrambling to his feet. "We're here," she said curtly.
Alec looked up and saw a large horse stable, repurposed into a makeshift hideout. The sight of the weathered wood and the faintly glowing lights from within made him uneasy. The other horses let out low grunts, and the pungent smell of damp hay and animal sweat hung in the air, making Alec wrinkle his nose.
"Cuddles, pull up!" Woody shouted from the barn door, his voice commanding as he signaled for it to be opened.
"Cuddles?" Alec thought, bewildered. The name didn't match the gritty, tough image of the group.
The barn door creaked open, and a girl with pink hair and a white bear mask stepped out, her movements quick and eager. Her eyes caught sight of Alec, and she grinned behind her mask. "Ooh, a hostage? He's cute," she cooed, rushing over to inspect him. Her voice dripped with playful seduction as she leaned in closer to Alec, who stood there, both confused and uncomfortable.
"Cuddles, quit it," Skully called out from behind, busy unpacking their gear with little patience for her antics.
Cuddles pouted but didn't back away entirely. "Spoilsport," she muttered, brushing Alec's cheek with a gloved hand before skipping back to help with the others.
Alec, feeling more out of place than ever, tried to process what he had just walked—or rather, been pushed—into. "What is this place?" he asked, his voice laced with both curiosity and wariness.
Woody gave him a crooked smile. "Home, for now. Get used to it, soldier boy. You're with us until we figure out what to do with you."
Alec glanced around, taking in the rough yet strangely cozy interior of the stable. It was clear these teens were more than just scavengers—they were survivors with their own set of rules and dynamics. And now, whether he liked it or not, Alec was part of their world.
As Alec tried to gather his thoughts in the stable, he overheard Parker and Skully engaged in a conversation off to the side.
Parker, the youngest and most energetic of the group, was grinning as he spoke. "So, Skully, you ever think about what you'd do if you found a million bucks out here?"
Skully, always wearing his skull mask and never one to show much emotion, tilted his head. "Yeah, buy a bigger skull mask," he said flatly.
Parker laughed, slapping Skully on the back. "And here I thought you'd invest in some personality."
Skully shrugged. "No need. I'm already the most interesting person here. You? You'd just buy more junk to hoard."
Parker pretended to be offended, gasping dramatically. "Hey! My 'junk' is vintage, okay? One day, this stuff will be worth a fortune."
Before Skully could retort, a small squeak caught their attention. A mouse suddenly dropped from the roof, landing with a tiny thud near Alec's feet. He looked up, and to his shock, a horde of piffles was staring down at him, their beady eyes fixed on the scene below.
"Those things are everywhere," Woody muttered, not even looking up as he continued sorting through their supplies.
Alec, still unsettled by everything happening around him, suddenly remembered his team—specifically, Jack. His heart sank as the reality of his situation hit him. "I need to find my team," he said urgently.
Skully, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. "Don't they think you're dead? And if not, what if they're dead?"
Alec sighed, feeling a wave of hopelessness wash over him. But he pushed through it, his voice steady with conviction. "Jack would come back for me. I know he would."
Just then, Parker swung down from the hayloft, landing nimbly beside Alec. "Jack? Jack Evergreen? That Cordero soldier lunatic who's been on the run since he took down that terrorist organization?"
Alec's eyes widened in recognition, and he nodded vigorously. "Yes! That's him!"
The teens exchanged glances, clearly intrigued by the revelation. Diana, who had been leaning against the stable wall, suddenly tossed Alec a knife. He fumbled to catch it, nearly dropping it in the process.
She gave him a hard look. "We rely on armies like yours to save this war, but you need mental training. Cordero keeps soldiers like you weak-minded."
Woody added with a smirk, "That's if you survive. But if you do, it's going to help you in the long run."
Before Alec could process the weight of their words, Diana motioned for him to follow her. "Come on, we've got a training course that'll toughen you up."
Alec hesitated, feeling the exhaustion in his bones. "Don't I need rest?"
Diana glanced back at him, her expression stern. "Ghouls don't rest."
Alec swallowed hard, realizing that his journey was far from over. With no other choice, he followed Diana out of the stable, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead.
Diana and Alec stood in the snowy clearing, the rest of the group watching from a distance as the two engaged in relentless training. The cold wind bit at Alec's skin, but the physical strain was far more overwhelming.
He was struggling, his movements slow and uncoordinated, while Diana easily outmaneuvered him. Time and time again, she disarmed him, her strikes swift and precise.
Alec, panting heavily, finally dropped his training staff and fell to his knees. "I can't do it," he gasped, tears of frustration welling in his eyes.
Diana, barely winded, caught her breath and looked down at him. "Yes, you can. You've made it this far."
Alec glared up at her, his voice tinged with bitterness. "By you beating the hell out of me?" Alec lowered his head he'd always been behind in training, always felt useless and looked down by Cordero and his family.
Diana sighed, stepping back and looking at the others who watched silently. "He needs work," she muttered to herself. Then she knelt beside Alec, her tone softening. "Alec, you have to let go of that fear. If you're fighting for who you love, you need to find that strength within you."
Alec looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity in her words. He was tired, bruised, and cold, but something in Diana's gaze sparked a flicker of determination. He thought about his friends—Jack, Quinn, Yuri—and how much they meant to him. He couldn't let them down. He couldn't let himself down.
Slowly, Alec picked up the training staff again, his grip tightening. He focused on those memories, the moments of camaraderie, the laughter, and the battles they'd faced together. He stood up, his posture more determined than before.
"Again," Alec said, his voice steadier.
Diana gave a small nod, stepping back into a fighting stance. They began once more, but this time Alec was different. He moved with purpose, his strikes more controlled. Though he still struggled, there was a noticeable improvement.
Hours later, as the sun began to set, Woody stepped in to relearn Alec how to aim properly. He placed a rifle in Alec's hands and showed him how to hold it, how to breathe and squeeze the trigger at the right moment.
"You've got potential," Woody said, "but it's all about focus. Don't think, just feel."
Alec practiced again and again, each shot becoming more accurate. He was exhausted, his muscles burning, but he pushed through the pain.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Woody nodded approvingly. "You're getting there. But you still need endurance."
And so, Alec found himself running laps in the snow, his breath forming clouds in the freezing air. Skully followed behind him on horseback, keeping a watchful eye.
"Come on, tough guy, pick up the pace!" Skully called out, though there was a hint of encouragement in his voice.
Alec's legs felt like lead, but he kept going, driven by the determination to be stronger, to protect those he cared about. As he ran, he repeated Diana's words in his mind: *Let go of that fear.*
By the time Alec finally collapsed in the snow, completely spent, he realized something had shifted inside him.
He was far from perfect, but he was no longer the same scared, weak soldier who had arrived at this strange place. He was beginning to find his strength.
Night had fallen, and the barn was filled with the quiet hum of activity. Woody and Skully took turns keeping watch for ghouls, their eyes scanning the dark, snowy landscape outside.
In another corner, Cuddles and Diana whispered to each other, their conversation a mix of gossip and idle chatter. The warmth of their words contrasted sharply with the cold that seemed to seep through the barn walls.
Alec sat alone on a hay bale, his thoughts miles away. He was exhausted, not just physically but emotionally.
The day's training had been brutal, and though he had pushed through, the ache in his heart was harder to bear. He wondered if Jack and the rest of his team had survived the horde of ghouls. The thought that they might believe him dead gnawed at him, making the cold around him feel even more bitter.
His gaze drifted upward, landing on a light streamer hanging across the barn. The colors were faded, but the rainbow pattern was still visible, a small, almost cheerful touch in the otherwise grim setting. It reminded him of his friends—of the bonds they shared, the moments of joy and laughter amidst the chaos of their lives.
Driven by a sudden need to connect with those memories, Alec stood up and walked to a barn wall. He crouched down, scooping up a handful of mud. With slow, deliberate strokes, he began drawing on the wooden planks. First, he drew Jack's face—simple, bare, but unmistakably Jack. Then, stick figures of the rest of his team, each one capturing a piece of the life he feared he'd lost.
"Hey, Alec!" Cuddles called out, her voice ringing with excitement. "What are you up to? That looks..... interesting!" she purred, leaning over the back of the bench to catch his eye.
Alec glanced up, mud smudged on his cheek and a faint smile breaking through his concentration. "Oh, hey Cuddles. Just trying to make some art. It's a bit messy, but I like it."
Cuddles approached, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Messy can be sexy!
You know, I've always thought that artists are the best kind of people. You should teach me how to make mud art!"
Alec chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't think I'm much of a teacher. Besides, I'm just doodling. It's nothing serious."
"Oh, come on!" Cuddles leaned closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. "I think you could use a muse."
Alec raised an eyebrow, trying to focus on his sketch. "I appreciate the offer, but l'm good, thanks.
"Come on, Alec," she teased, twirling a lock of her pink hair around her finger. "You can't tell me you wouldn't want to draw something a little... more exciting."
He chuckled nervously, feeling the heat of her gaze. "Really, Cuddles, I'm not looking for a muse. I prefer to draw what I think of."
"Ah, but what if what's around you is a little... boring?" Cuddles pressed, her tone playful yet seductive. "What if you had something a bit more... intriguing to capture?"
Alec shifted uncomfortably, sensing the tension in the air. "I think I'll stick to my boring sketches, thanks. They work for me."
But Alec, lost in his thoughts and increasingly annoyed by her advances, brushed her off. "Not now, Cuddles," he said, his voice weary and edged with frustration. He didn't have the energy for games or distractions.
Seeing she was getting nowhere, Cuddles huffed and sauntered away, leaving Alec alone once more. He finished his drawing, his fingers tracing the final lines with a kind of reverence, as if by doing so, he could keep his friends close, even from afar.
Satisfied, though still heavy-hearted, Alec finally lay down on the hay. Sleep came fitfully, filled with dreams of his team, their faces haunting him as he tried to rest.
Morning came too quickly. Alec was jolted awake by the sound of the barn door creaking open. Woody and Skully stood there, both covered in a thin layer of snow, their faces flushed from the cold.
"Rise and shine, sunshine," Woody called out, his breath visible in the frigid air. "The coast is clear, and we've got supplies to gather. Time to saddle up."
Alec rubbed the sleep from his eyes, still groggy but already feeling the adrenaline of another mission kicking in. He nodded and quickly got to his feet, grabbing his gear. The rest of the group stirred as well, each of them moving with a practiced efficiency. They all knew the drill—no time to waste.
As they stepped outside, the cold hit Alec like a wall, but he pushed through it, focusing on the task at hand. The horses were already prepared, their breath steaming in the early morning air. Alec mounted his horse, patting its neck to reassure both the animal and himself.
As they rode out into the snow-covered landscape, Woody and Skully rode side by side, already falling into their usual banter.
"You know," Skully began, adjusting his grip on the reins, "I was thinking, if this whole apocalypse thing doesn't work out, we could start a snowplow business. We're getting real good at clearing paths."
Woody snorted, shaking his head. "Sure, Skully, because that's what the world needs—two idiots with a couple of horses, plowing snow. We'd be millionaires in no time."
"Hey, don't knock it. We've got a niche market here," Skully shot back, grinning beneath his mask. "Plus, think of the perks. Free frostbite with every plow."
"Frostbite and broken bones," Woody added, laughing. "You really know how to sell it, Skully. I'm sure the folks back at HQ would be lining up for miles."
Alec couldn't help but smile at their exchange. It was moments like these—when humor cut through the tension—that kept them all sane. The world had gone to hell, but Woody and Skully could still find something to laugh about.
"Besides," Woody continued, "you'd probably end up crashing the plow into a tree or something. You're better off sticking to what you know—like not getting us all killed."
Skully rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Like you'd do any better. You're the one who got us lost last week, remember?"
"That was a shortcut!" Woody protested, though his grin betrayed him.
"A shortcut to nowhere," Skully retorted, his laugh contagious.
As they rode on, the sound of their laughter mingled with the crunch of snow under the horses' hooves. The banter eased some of the weight on Alec's shoulders.
In a desolate landscape blanketed by a thick layer of snow, Blitz, a scruffy yet spirited dog, trotted through the biting cold. The air was crisp, and the wind howled, but his heart was warm with the hope of finding his beloved owner, Jack.
Blitz had been searching for days, his paws weary and his belly grumbling, yet the thought of Jack kept him moving forward.
As he wandered deeper into the wilderness, he stumbled upon a quiet town, eerily silent and shrouded in white. The houses, once vibrant with life, now stood barricaded and abandoned, their windows dark and lifeless.
Blitz sniffed the air, catching a faint scent that tugged at his curiosity. Despite the chill that seeped into his bones, he felt an urge to explore this forgotten place.
As he trotted down the snow-covered streets, Blitz noticed a small shop with an open door. Inside, a shopkeeper, an older man with a scruffy beard and weary eyes, spotted the dog and smiled.
"Hey there, pup!" he called out, his voice filled with warmth. "Come here, I've got some moose jerky for you!" The enticing aroma wafted through the chilly air, tickling Blitz's nose and making his stomach growl louder.
Blitz hesitated, torn between his instinct to remain vigilant for Jack and the allure of food. His curiosity won, and he stepped inside the shop.
The warmth enveloped him like a comforting blanket, and he approached the man, who offered him a piece of jerky. It was delicious, and for the first time in days, Blitz felt a sense of comfort and safety.
Days passed as Blitz stayed with the shopkeeper. The man was kind, sharing stories of the town and the ghouls that had driven most of its inhabitants away. Blitz listened, but the tales of horror did little to quell the gnawing worry in his heart. Despite the warmth of the shop and the meals provided, he couldn't shake the thought of Jack.
Each night, he would dream of their time together: the long walks, the games of fetch, and the way Jack would laugh whenever Blitz would make a clumsy leap.
As the sun rose and set, Blitz's heart began to grow heavy. The days turned into weeks, and the once comforting presence of the shopkeeper felt more like a reminder of his absence. The moose jerky was no longer enough to fill the void left by Jack's companionship. One cold morning, with the snow falling gently outside, Blitz made a decision. He needed to find Jack, no matter the cost.
With a heavy heart, Blitz left the warmth of the shop, the jingle of the bell above the door echoing in the stillness. The cold air hit him like a wall, and he shivered, but the thought of Jack kept him moving. He wandered back into the wilderness, his paws sinking into the deep snow, driven by a relentless hope.
Days turned into a blur, and the harsh winter took its toll. Blitz's energy waned, and hunger gnawed at him. He fought against the fatigue, but the cold was unforgiving. His mind wandered to Jack, the sound of his laughter, the warmth of his embrace, and the love they shared.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Blitz collapsed in the snow, exhaustion overwhelming him. As he lay there, the world around him faded, and he thought he heard Jack calling his name. In that moment, Blitz knew he had given everything in search of his best friend. With a final sigh, he closed his eyes, dreaming of the joyful moments they had shared, and the warmth of love that would forever remain in his heart.