Never let me go

11: The 57th expedition

The 57th Expedition outside the walls - Year 850

Iris was tired. Despite it being early morning the heat had already come rolling down the mountains, making the air vibrate. Grasshoppers were singing, birds where chirping, some stallions were screaming at each other outside, probably trying to decide who was the most magnificent of them all.

"You sure pick some odd times to be smiling."

Jean's slightly sullen voice pulled her from her thoughts. Blinking, Iris realised the clouds she had been staring at were so shining white her eyes hurt. Yawning, she shifted her weight to her other leg and squirmed slightly as the leather straps around her shoulders dug into her skin. Whenever the weather was hot she'd start sweating. and with the sweat came the chafing. She wondered why some women never seemed to sweat, like Christa, whose hair never seemed tangle either. A fly buzzed past her, and she swatted at it lazily.

"I was just thinking of how much I hate this heat," she mused, still smiling slightly whilst leaning against the pitchfork in her hands. Since the captain was busy with all the secrecy concerning this expedition, Iris had been allowed to do stable duty for the first time since she'd joined the corps. Iris would not mind at all to be assigned to the team that bred, trained and managed the corps' horses.

"Tell me about it," he muttered, "I'm melting over here." He scooped up dirty straw with his pitch fork, and tossed it to the wheel barrel behind him. Jean did not like stable duty, or horses either for that matter. They were more an annoyance that he was going to have to get used to. Horses seemed to sense his apathy towards them, and responded with equal indifference, much to his annoyance. Iris had just assumed he'd be sulking during their work shift, and when Jean was sulking he wasn't much for talking; unless he was muttering to himself, of course.

"Wait, you're what smells so bad? Phew, I just assumed something had died," Iris teased and fanned the air with her hand.

"Look who's talking, you're practically dripping," Jean replied with indignation, and eyed her critically. Looking down she realised there was dirty straw and horse shit spread all over the floor around her. She hadn't really noticed the mess she'd been making when she was supposed to be cleaning the stalls. Whoops. "Seriously," Jean exclaimed incredulously, "what does Reiner see in you?"

Iris felt a smile play on her lips.

"Oh you don't want to know..." she grinned. For a moment Jean did not seem to get her point, but when it dawned on him what she was implying he scowled, and blushed slightly. His mouth twisted, and he produced a gagging sound.

"Eugh, thanks for that disgusting mental image." Iris smirked and tossed some dirty straw towards her wheel barrel, missing by several inches.

"Blame yourself for asking."

Jean grumbled and moved from one stall to the next. Little drops of sweat rolled down his neck, and he wiped them with his sleeve. Iris understood the need for good weather during expeditions; rain or fog could completely destroy their formation by hindering them from utilizing their flare guns. She could already feel the saddle sores she would have tonight though. Heat made everything made of leather chafe even more than it usually did.

"One thing I can't understand," Jean spoke up, "is how you've managed to convince Reiner you're some defenseless little thing."

"Well," she scooped at some of the spills on the paved stable floor, "look at me. What am I?"

"A girl," he replied impatiently without looking.

"Mm, I'm not very tall, strong, outspoken, fierce or cunning... People have underestimated me ever since I grew tits." Jean turned and stared at her. "What?" she snapped.