The Howl

Lost in Siberia

A woman with grey hair and a young face was brooming the snow out of her yard. She lifted up her eyes to notice the blonde boy staring at her a while now.

"I have nothing for you." she said "Go away."

The boy blinked twice but didn't respond. Instead he stared at her as she went on with her work. She knew but struggled to ignoor him.

"Is Oleg coming back?" he asked after a while. " Was it because of me...that he left?"

The woman looked at him with her big blue eyes. A tear ran on her cheek as she faced the boy's innocence. He didn't know what war is yet... She leaned her head on her broom and...cried.

Somewhere in Siberia

"Luchkov!" someone called, shivering. "You have a pencil?"

"It's small." said a blonde boy with blue eyes as he was writing. He finished his sentence and passed it on. 
"Your friend, Oleg." it read. He looked around the dark trench. It was wet and freezing. The smell of urine waw intense and the small fire they lit was only fillong their lungs with smoke, no heat. Oleg pulled a small flask from his pocket and sipped it.

"Sarge?" someone called "Water?" and coughed.
Oleg looked at his flask and at their sargeant. "I have Vodka." he said and offered it.
The sargeant, a man no older than 27 but with hair silver like the moon took the flask and sterched his hand to an extremely young boy. "Yuri, don't drink it all at once, again." he ordered. "Maybe your friend can find some water." he said noticing a white wolf lurking at the edge of their trench. Oleg saw it too and turned his head to Yuri Dimoff, their youngest in the squad.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked.

The boy coughed harder as the alcohol begun to burn his lungs and shook his head negatively.

"You're too sick!" growled Sargeant Matvei Pavlichenko. "I'm not gotta let you get off that corner, kid."

"Please..." wispered the boy "I promised."

The boy was too sick to move anyway and tried hard to speak. He kept coughing as the medic tried to check his fever with his hand. The look he gave to the sargeant was not releaving and the wolf looked down at him, in the eye as if it were a person. Sargeant Matvei looked at Oleg and back at the boy. "You're in charge." he warned.

"Sir, please don't die out there?"
Asked Oleg.

"Пащла на хуй." said the man and smiled, more to encourage him.

Oleg pretented their Sargeant didn't juat tell him to "go on a dick", knowing there was a higher possibility the cold kills him and not the Germans, he smiled back. "Bila ne Bila." his mother always said: What happens, happens."

The sargeant got off the trench to a frozen land. The snowstorm lurking a while ago had stopped. He could see the result of it: snow, broken trees and the clear sky of a million stars...The white wolf looked at him. Matvei stood still like the boy, Yuri always did, and stretched his hand.
The wolf opproached to sniff his hand. When it felt safe, it turned his back at him and walked. Matvei followed it. Someway...it knew where to go... The sareant felt like his fate relied on this wolf. He felt silly...but trusted it.