Iconoclastic Campaign. The uniform enhanced his bravado. Ready to fight. If necessary. Night in a forest. Each enemy uncertain of each other’s position. Each enemy an alliance of separate armies. In the dark he had become separated from his party. They would not search for him, that was understood. Look out for himself. They probably had run for it anyway. Cowards. Theatrically he spat as if on them. Approached suddenly a hut. No light. Derelict yet still intact. Deserted most like. They won’t have advanced this far. Cowards, and spat again, stealthily approaching the door. Now it so happens as in a simple moral tale that through a door on the other side of the hut crept a member of the opposing forces lost too. Dark debris hid each from the other. Door creak closed and they freeze breathing awareness of each other. Silence ensued. Revolvers cocked. Who goes there sharply whispered in two languages simultaneously. That settles it. All hell breaks loose. Ammunition runs out eventually. The breathing over there continues for each. Panting. Next thing they’re on each other grappling and clubbing with revolver butts. Falling unconscious simultaneously from similar blows. In each other’s arms. The hut collapses on top of them, lowering itself in creaks and groans almost gently, covering them. Morning arrives and with it fierce battle rages around them unconscious in each other’s arms. The opposing alliances of armies advance and retreat, by sunset they are down a valley and over a hill away. This night it snowed again. All through the dark a blanket whirled and lay a cover over the events of the day. Consciousness stirred in out two individual enemies as awaking they awoke each other. Dullness in their minds stupefied their reactions. Separately yet in the same manner they dragged themselves to a snow draped opening between what had been wall and what still remained roof. Silent dawn birds skipping a tweet tweet, churp churp. They looked at each other for the first time clearly drawing back from each other suddenly apprehensive. Interrupted by two simultaneous winces of pain. Silence uncertainty and hunger ensued. A young deer gambols in and out of view. It comes to them. It comes to them luckily at this moment the that they are lying on sacks of provisions. So with some difficulty because of bruised and battered limbs the manage to satisfy their hunger. Tiredness now. They pass out fighting to keep awake eyeing each other suspiciously. Wolves ate them.