Fenrir in the 501st

Thats not a rain drop...

《~~Disclaimer~~ Strike Witches/world witches project is owned by their respective owners and studios, if any reason they want me to take down the story I will. Only my original characters are owned by me.》

     The sun shining on a snow ridden airfield, the glare of the reflection off the snow, gave a magical look to it, a shining wonder. Inside of one of the barracks on base is a young girl no older then a young teen. Her light brown hair strewn about on the pillow and bed, she rests upon. Small pink lips like off fairy, sit slightly parted, as small breaths escape it. Her body lithe yet squeezable body rolled into a balled position, her size no different then a child.

   The sound of a trumpet and yelling breaks the slient morning air.

Instructor - "Wake up you useless bags of wasted mana, get up and get ready for class and flight training in the afternoon!" A young women shouted with authority, her dark brown hair tied in a bun, her uniform, perfectly creased and clean.

    The collective moans and groans of young girls waking up and rushing to get ready fills the room. Some minutes later everyone is lined up at the end of their bunk except for one.

Ashley- " Five more minutes, mom" she then pulls the blanket over her head and rolling away from the light coming in the window.

   Silence fills the barracks. One can clearly hear the patience of the instructor snapping. She stomps up the to Ashley's bed and pulls the covers.

Instructor- " Cadet. O'Neill, you will wake up and do 2 laps on the airfield!"

Ashley -" an unfamiliar ceiling " she mumbles as she remembers how she got here.

~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~

  Mother -" You have to get up, you have school" my mother yelled waking me from my slumber.
   
     Hopping out of bed, I glace around my room filled with anime stuff, most of it of girls. Garbing a set of clothes I rush off to the washroom to get ready. To go to an amazing place called school, that everyone loves, where definitely done force you to think a certain way and then tell you that you have creative freedom. If I want to be and artist or an computer technician why do I have to learn how to make Hydrochloric-acid it makes no sense.

I come out of the washroom all refreshed and ready for anything. I make my way downstairs, skipping a few steps as I do. At a kitchen table, there lays a feast like no other crêpes with maple syrup and smoked maple bacon. It holy aura blinds me as I partake in this delicious goodness. Any Canadian would agree that maple fits with pretty much anything. Except cauliflower I hate that stuff.

Mother- " Stop thinking and get ready for school you doubt have much time anymore." My mother says as she get ready as well.

I snap out of my daze. Oh shoot I promised my friends id show them how to do that one math problem, what was the teacher thinking giving us a high level math problem like that, he's like here do this of you cant we will redo this entire lesson. I will tell you I will not sit though that lesson again. I run out of the house trying to make up for lost time.

    Walking for some time and a few street lights later, the cold wind cuts deep within me, looking down at my t-shirt and skirt,  not the brightest choice I made, but it not the biggest mistake I have ever done. That would go to me not drying my hair properly during a blizzard and then walking to school then too. All morning I looked like I was a super Saiyan. Reminds me I have to get my hands and that picture my friend took and get rid of it.

 I decide ill jog the rest of the way to school. I pull out my phone and earbuds, looking through my music I start with a good one. Guardians of the galaxy vol.1 . I start my jog to keep my self warm, stopping at a light intersection, waiting for it to show the walk signal, I notice my shoe untied as I was about to walk, a truck speeds past the red light. Damn that was close, not today. I tie my shoe and look both way before crossing.

  Continuing my jog I can see my school coming up. Over my music I can hear a plane flying by, I  always liked planes from any era or nationality, my favorites are the f-18, mig-35 and the Avro Arrow. The plane that flies over is a C-130 Hercules, a military transport plane. Ours are still from the cold war era, maple syrup is also a great sealant and preserver. The plane flies over head, only its pretty low to the ground definitely not cruising altitude,  it does a turn further away and comes back toward me. It like my own private air show.

Looking closer at the plane that is coming closer towards me I now notice the ramp open, are they practicing drops? As if on queue a chute flies out the back and a truck? Comes out, not a military one a regular box truck that looks familiar. And the chute disconnects and the truck starts falling quicker and it's get bigger.

Oh shit! Its falling. The head lights turn on and I'm just there starring mesmerized at this scene. The fall straight on top of my all I hear is " Gotcha" the  everything goes dark.

~~A/N~~

This is my first time writing a book so its pretty riddles with errors and aneurysm inducing grammar mistakes, but this is just for me to get better with constructive criticism, chapter wont be too long till I get a hang of writing. So I please ask that you be patient with me. orz

I'm also not against any idea that one were to come up with if it fits in to the story. Also if something isn't clear please tell me what is not clear and I will try to clear it up. If you have read this note, thank you very much for listening (reading).