FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The battle of Kock, Poland 1939

“The majority of the Allied propaganda portrayed Poland as a helpless victim, overpowered by the superior strength of the Nazi German war machine.

It would later be corrected in the modern era as Polish holdouts became events surrounded by myth and legend, Polish soldiers standing fast against 40:1 odds and bloodying even the famous Heinz Guderian's nose. The importance of these events cannot be underestimated, as the stubborn and unyielding resistance of Polish survivors forced Nazi Generals to rethink their tactics. They faced heavy losses from small groups of Poles who were surrounded but refused to give in.

Allied reports released to the public even went so far as to say that Dragoon and horse units were completely out matched by German War machines.

The Battle of Kock was the true final stand of the Polish Army against Nazi and Red Army forces. While Hitler was enjoying daylong Victory Parades in Warsaw. Only few 100 miles away, the Polish SPO lead by General Kleeberg fought for multiple days"

Jacek gazed out over the fields with his binoculars, lost in thought. He heard a loud rumble from behind him and turned to see Aros chomp on the hindleg of a German horse. Jacek couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sound of bones as they cracked between powerful jaws. The green dragon, adorned with brown tiger-like stripes and brown chest and belly scales, paused for a moment and meet Jacek's stare with its golden irises. Sheepishly, the dragon continued to quietly strip pieces of meat from the bones.

His unit was the Dragon-Uhlans, where traditional Uhlans rode on horses, as lancers and carbineers with short rifles. His fellow brothers in arms rode into battle on dragons. Wingless or winged, his Was was a winged dragon named Aros.

Jacek, watched the dragon devour its meal with a quiet intensity, the human grunted and returned to his thoughts. It had only been a few weeks since the Germans swept through his country, they left only destruction and chaos in their wake. And then, the Soviets attacked from behind, a blatant display of their cowardice. As a member of the Podlaska Cavalry Brigade assigned to SPO, he found himself in the Kock forest, preparing for what many believed would be the Final Stand of Poland. But as long as they kept fighting, Poland would never truly die. She would live on in the hearts of her brave soldiers.

He recalled an elderly woman who had approached them as they passed through a village. She had brought out a buckets of food for the dragons, and even tied a small bronze cross to Aros' harness while Jacek sat atop Aros. A Priest joined them and blessed both Jacek and Aros. The drake was happy to have holy water drawn in the shape of a cross on his head, and the drake had even bent down so that Jacek could receive the blessings as well.

He lifted his head and noticed the dragon still had the holy symbol attached to its harness. The image of the old woman's tear-filled eyes flashed in his mind, pleading for him to avenge her son. As a man of honor, he had nodded and promised to fulfill his duty as a soldier of Podlaska.

It had been days since then, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for all that he had accomplished. He hoped that he had kept his promise to her and stayed true to his oath to serve his country.

The sound of a ear splitting howl pierced the air, which caused him to drop into a low crouch and seek shelter in the deep foxhole that Aros had dug. As he joined his mount in the makeshift cover, he started to check the harness and armor of the drake. The dragon was adorned with a matte-finished breastplate, shoulder pauldrons, and front neck protection. The man also made sure the drake's helmet was secure, which was fashioned from sloped steel plates for added ballistic protection, and his lance which was strapped to the side of the harness. Lying on his back next to the formidable dragon, Jacek held his carbine tight against his chest as artillery rained down on the infantry ahead of them.

Jacek crouched lower next to Aros, the dragon providing a massive shield as dirt rained down from nearby explosions. Tracer fire streaked overhead as the Polish Infantry continued their courageous defense against the advance of German troops. The sound of engines and tracks cut through the chaos of gunfire and artillery, the noise signaled the approach of light mechanized infantry as the used their armor for cover.

As the Germans prepared for their assault, the artillery fire started to diminish, following a classic strategy. The Polish officers had caught onto this pattern, but the arrogant Germans refused to change it. Jacek huddled close to Aros' side and tightened his grip on the straps attached to the saddle. He quickly checked his gear while waiting for the signal and patted Aros' neck in reassurance. Despite being interrupted during his meal, the drake was now fully focused on their mission at hand.

Time slowed in that fleeting moment until the bugle finally sounded. Jacek gripped the harness straps tightly, feeling Aros' muscles tense beneath him. With a burst of energy, the drake leaped out of the foxhole alongside the other Uhlan Dragoons. The air was filled with war cries as soldiers mounted their Dragons and raised their weapons: lances, sabers, and carbines all at the ready. Polish flags flapped and danced the polearms some riders carried.

Jacek huddled closely behind Aros' neck, the two form the lead duo in their unit. Green tracers zipped past them as they charged ahead, The Dragoons leapt over the hunkered down heads of the Polish Infantry. The dragoon formation barreled toward a cluster of Pz-Is, light german tanks. Their turrets equipped only with two machine guns. Aros began to twist and turn, the dragon maneuvered between barriers in an attempt to evade any incoming fire from the tanks.

A loud metallic 'thwang!' echoed through the air as a rifle round hit Aros' thick chest plate. Jacek quickly ducked behind the armored head of his dragon, and scanned the area for any other threats. He saw fellow riders on either side of him, and in the distance, traditional horse Uhlans approaching from both flanks. The sound of a submachine gun fire snapped him back to reality as bullets bounced off Aros' heavily armored front.

Jacek sat up halfway, and peered over the armored head of the drake. He could see a German soldier had emerged from behind the tank that he and Aros were headed towards.

As the Dragoons charged towards the soldier and the infantry column who had been advancing under cover behind the tank, chaos erupted. The troops tried to scatter but were still in a tight formation when the Dragoons collided with them. Jacek's lance was aimed at the German soldier holding a submachine gun, who was too busy with his trembling hands to notice. In a few powerful strides, Aros closed the last few meters distance between them. The man fumbled with his reload under pressure from Aros' approach. Golden, piercing irises pinned the man in place.

As they rode by, Jacek swiftly thrust the lance into the man's chest and continued on. To the Germans, it was a mere blur until their squad leader fell to the ground with a spear jutting from his chest. The Polish flag flew proudly in the wind, taunting and mocking their enemies. The Dragoons had begun to expertly divide and conquer the armored formation.

The German soldiers tried to scatter in chaotic panic as they broke formation behind the tanks. Aros, using his sharp talons and teeth, eliminated any enemy that dared to come near him. With Jacek providing cover on their flanks with his saber and sidearm, he had fended off a clumsy bayonet strike from a terrified young soldier. In response, Jacek shot the boy through the helmet, and sent the young German tumbling back. Jacek took down two more enemies with well placed shots. Meanwhile, Aros continued leaping between groups of frightened men, leaving behind a trail of carnage with every swipe of his powerful paw. Once swipe sent a soldier flying trailed by gore. In just under a minute, eight soldiers were reduced to shreds by the dragon's ferocity while three others had fallen victim to Jacek's precise swordsmanship.

Aros rounded and bound up the back of the tank, the crew completely unaware of the carnage behind them. Or praying that the infantry could hold their own, which they would have surely known had become a lost cause. The sound of the dragon paws, and claws on the roof of their tank was all the crew needed to hear to know their infantry support was gone. Tanks as powerful as they were, were also incredibly vulnerable alone and unsupported.

Jacek's voice cut through the roar of the tank's engine, shouting “Aros! Hatch!". The dragon wasted no time and quickly tore open the hatch with its massive strength. The tanks had been used solely for training, but the Germans had added machine guns to turn them into combat units. The flimsy bars that blocked a human from opening the hatch easily gave way in a loud screech of metal. The commander/gunner inside must have realized they were under attack when they had heard the sound of a dragon landing on their tank. Without hesitation, pistol shots rang out from below, some hitting Aros' helmet but not causing any serious damage. Jacek shielded his eyes from the sparks flying around and had to squeeze them shut to protect his vision.

Aros didn't wait for Jacek to drop the grenade the man had been trying ready when the dragon had leapt onto the tank. The drake snapped his head down, and seized the man's head, in powerful jaws. The man letting out an animalistic screech before Aros twisted his head with a jerk, and an audible crack silenced the man's blood curdling screams.

The driver, who had just witnessed probably the most terrible sight known to any tanker, was screaming in terror. But instead of Aros going for the driver, the hatchway was not conducive to fish the man out. Jacek dropped a grenade through the hole, and the dragon leapt from the tank. The yells of the last man in the tank echoed, like a man trapped in a water drum. Than were cut off abruptly by a muffled crump of detonation, and the sound of shrapnel as it bounced around the inside of the tank.

All around them that scene repeated itself the tanks supporting infantry killed in brutal hand to hand, and close order fire. Then the tank's crew, one poor tank crew, had the misfortune of being subject to a dragon with flame glands. Even Jacek couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor bastards as he head the screams that came from the tank. While large red dragon poured fire into it, flames boiled out of the hatch and the rider on its back had to shield their face with an arm.

The attack was successfully repelled and the horse cavalry pursued the retreating infantry and armored cars. The Dragoons retreated in quick, bounding strides to rejoin the Polish troops. Some of their fallen comrades were carried back with them, while a dragon lingered over a deceased human rider, and nuzzled the body with its snout. The mighty dragon looked deflated, head frills pinned tight to its neck.

“Kurwa!" Jacek growled out as he pulled his gaze from the sight, only to look back as the dragon let out an anguished roar and vented its anger on the side of a disabled tank. Before it picked up the broken man like a hatchling, and retreated back to friendly lines.

As a tear threatened to fall from Jacek's eye, he mumbled, "I hope you never have to carry me like that..." Aros gazed at the other drake without saying a word. Though Jacek was certain Aros had witnessed it all and heard everything much more clearly than he had. After a brief moment of silence, Aros effortlessly leapt over the trenches and reached their foxhole in a few powerful strides. He lowered himself down to let Jacek dismount, his blazing golden eyes peered out from under his angled helm and traces of gore from the tank commander still visible on his jaws.

The drake's sad smile revealed bloody teeth as he spoke. "I'm not sure if I could lift you... You're quite heavy," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement and unspoken emotions. Despite the unsaid words, these two were like brothers. They fought side by side, and as is expected of any Dragoon pair, they were willing to die together or live on together rather than leave the other behind.

It wasn't unusual for a rider to perish, but dragons took it especially hard. That's not to say that humans didn't feel sadness and pain when a dragon died. But dragons saw themselves as protectors of the small and defenseless riders. They viewed their humans almost like hatchlings in a way. The death of their rider could push them into a frenzy of rage and bloodlust.

During the war, he had witnessed a sniper taking out a rider before being relentlessly pursued by the rider's mount. In a desperate attempt to escape, the sniper ran deeper into their formation only to be viciously attacked by a fire-breathing dragoness. The chaos that ensued caused most of the enemy soldiers to follow the sniper to the grave. Until a seasoned veteran used an Anti-tank rifle to bring down the dragon. It was a bittersweet victory for the German soldier, as while the Germans were busy the rest of the Dragoons mounted a charge.

The two crawled into their foxhole, and Jacek let out a laugh as he lay back against the dirt wall, stretching his body out. "You don't have to beat around the bush, you can just call me fat," he joked, although it couldn't be further from the truth.

Aros snorted and nuzzled his head against Jacek's side, the drake sought comfort in their shared space. But when the drake opened his mouth to make a witty remark, the soldier playfully smacked the pommel of his knife against the dragon's helmet, which caused a loud ringing sound that Aros despised. The human closed his eyes, and settled deeper into their foxhole.

—-

Jacek grunted as a bayonet tip tapped against his Adrian helmet's crown, which roused him from a well needed nap. He heard the sound of Aros yawning, and tilted his head back to see a young polish militia man that looked like he had seen a ghost, the boys eyes fixed on Aros as the drake yawned. the drake's teeth flashed in the late evening light.

“Yes?" Jacek asked politely to get the boys attention.

The young man jumped and swallowed before he saluted, “umm… s-sorry sir, the Captain requests all the Dragoons for a meeting"

Jacek gave a nod and rose from his seat on the bottom of the foxhole, turning away from the boy to stretch his arms and release a yawn. As he faced back towards the boy, ready to speak, he saw that the boy had already darted away. "Looks like the lad's afraid of dragons," Jacek muttered with a shrug.

Aros let out a low, raspy laugh as he stretched out his wings and shook off any debris that had collected on them. "I could smell his fear sweat from a dozen meters away," he said with a wide grin, showing off his gleaming teeth. His snout and helmet were both clean now, without a trace of dirt or grime.

Jacek arched his back and cracked his knuckles as he emerged from the large foxhole. He glanced back at Aros and offered, "You're welcome to stay here if you want. It's probably just going to be a rousing speech or some boring information."

As he made his way towards the command post, a small farmhouse on the outskirts of their fortified town, the man spoke without turning around. He could hear Aros, the large drake following behind him with a soft scrape of talons. "Fine, but try not to snore and get us both in trouble," he laughed, and looked back at his companion with a goofy grin.

Jacek's assumption was proven wrong as the remaining Dragoons, riders, and mounts gathered around the building's front porch. A young officer took center stage on the porch, before clearing his throat and speaking.

“it is of the general officers' opinion that this unit, last of the polish army will surrender" the man spoke plainly, he had not garnished his words or beat around the bush. The man merely said what needed to be said.

Silence descended upon the gathered riders and their dragons. After a brief pause, the man continued speaking, his voice now projecting over the crowd.

“this does not apply to the Dragoon units, and no this is not us asking you to fight to the death either." the man said cutting off any questions with a wave of his hand or a glare.

"The reports state that German SS units are executing Dragoon units!" His words were momentarily lost in the chaos, the cacophony of growls, snarls, and human shouts. But he quickly raised his voice to command silence. Gradually, the commotion died down and all attention was on him.

"We have received these reports, although we cannot confirm their accuracy, despite that the General has decided to relieve you of your formal duties. You are to disappear immediately and continue fighting for Poland. The current recommended route is through Lithuania, Czechoslovakia, and or Hungary, ultimately reaching Britain or France. Take this letter with you, signed by General Kleeberg himself, explaining that you are the last remaining Dragoons and will continue serving Poland."

The man stood before the silent crowd, waving the stack of letters in his hand. "Remember... Jeszcze Polska nie zgin??a!!! (Poland is not yet lost!)"

The phrase was echoed by all the Dragoons as the man distributed the letters and shook each rider's hand. When he reached Jacek, he said, "Plutonowy Kostka, stay safe out there soldier. May you have safe travels and favorable winds."

The man saluted, and Jacek followed suit, and looked at Aros with uncertainty. The man was gone, and then another soldier came by with civilian clothes and a civilian dragon harness. “Take only what you need sir, travel light and fast. Pleasant winds and safe travels."

Jacek took the bundle of clothes and Aros took the harness, the two returned to their foxhole. The Polish rider quickly changed out of his uniform and into civilian clothes. They were a little baggy on him, but they would do as required and make him not look like a military man. He tossed his old uniform into the foxhole and then started to cut off the harness from Aros with his knife. Then helped the drake into his farm harness, it only had a few pouches and two saddle bags on it. With which Jacek stashed a handgun wrapped in the polish flag. The last of their food, and his canteen.

“We have a long flight ahead of us Aros, we're heading to Lithuania" Jacek said and looked at the pile of their gear in the fox hole. “Bury this stuff."

The Dragon immediately filled in the hole and then perched on top of it, staring down at the human. Jacek couldn't help but notice that without his armor and gear, the drake looked smaller. Aros gestured to the other dragoons flying towards the direction of Hungary. "Why not join them? They all seem to be heading in that direction."

As the evening sky began to darken, Jacek let out a sigh. "A group of dragons would definitely draw attention, but one man and a drake disguised as farmers? That's more inconspicuous. We'll stick to flying at night and walking during the day."

Aros nodded and lowered himself down. "There's no point in wasting time, I still remember the way from when we were stationed there a year ago."

Jacek climbed onto Aros' back and carefully tucked the letter in his shirt pocket. As soon as he was settled, Aros took off into the sky, powerful hind legs propelled them upwards. While deep powerful wing beats raised them towards some low-hanging clouds. With no moonlight and the sun just setting below the horizon, they would be practically invisible as they flew over the German lines.

Jacek gazed at the fading light over Kock forest and the small villages scattered around it. His voice was a barely audible as he whispered, "We'll return..."

Excerpt from: The History of Dragons and their Riders in the Second Great War.

“The war erupted without warning, as Soviet soldiers flooded over the borders. The Finnish defense force put up a strong fight with a mixture of mandatory and volunteer troops, armed with weapons that were considered outdated by modern standards. Through the use of ski troops and Wingless Dragoons, the Finns were able to weaken the Soviet's initial attack."

Valtter squinted against the powerful gusts of wind as he held on tight to Saku's harness, his mount pounded through the forest with his strong legs. They were on a mission to disrupt a convoy of tanks, which is why Valtter held a magnetic mine in one hand. He crouched low, and used Saku's body as a shield from the biting cold and whipping snow. The Wingless drake was massive, dwarfing even the largest Draft horse with its muscular build and immense strength.

Saku's nostrils flared as he caught a whiff of exhaust in the air. He turned sharply and began to descend down a snowy hillside, his rider adjusted their weight to maintain balance on the large dragon. As they reached the bottom, Valtter could hear the rumble of tank motors in the distance. Two more dragons slid down the hill, each with their own rider perched on their backs. The soldiers were armed with Suomi KP31s equipped with 71 round drum magazines, and extra ammo in sling pouches attached to their persons. Each dragon was outfitted with a pair of Magnetic mines on either side of their harnesses. These dragoons were all volunteers, both soldier and dragon working together seamlessly like a well-oiled machine.

Valtter raised his hand and signaled for the dragons to form a line with a 2 second gap between each one. He leaned down and nestled against his dragon's body, and whispered "Mark" in a hushed tone

Saku took off with long powerful strides through the falling snow, followed closely by the other two. The three dragons maneuvered with elegance between the tall pine trees, being careful not to disturb the branches weighed down with snow and give away their presence. As the sound of engines and struggling treads grew closer, Valtter noticed that they were nearing the edge of the forest. He unhooked 30-pound mines from special hooks on the dragon's harness behind his thighs and looped his wrists through cords attached to the ignition pins in the center of each disk.

With a deafening roar, Saku charged through the last of the pine trees, a flurry of snow to sprayed out in his wake. The other two dragons followed suit, their own triumphant cries rang out into the crisp winter air. Their human rider let out a whoop as they burst into the midst of a convoy of Russian T-26 tanks, along with light infantry support. The Russian soldiers were caught completely off guard and began to scream in surprise. Saku's white fur gleamed in the midday sun. The snow white drake ran parallel to the tanks, narrowly avoiding a collision with the trailing tank. Meanwhile, Valtter strained as he threw the mine with all his might, its lanyard dangled from his from his forearm trailing the pulled pin. With a loud clang, the mine attached itself firmly to the side of the tank. Undeterred, Saku sprinted towards the next tank as rifle fire erupted behind them as the infantry tried to defend against the dragon attack.

the tanks.

With a hand now free, Valtter slung his Suomi around and depressed the trigger, the muzzle tracked a pair of Russian soldiers as Saku passed by them. An unlucky third man was swatted aside by a powerful paw. As Saku approached the second tank Valtter checked the second mine as Saku bounded up the side of the metal hull, Valtter released the mine on top of the engine bay. A second metallic clang filled the air as the mine dropped on to the tank. Followed by a metallic ping sound as the pin was yanked free by the lanyard. Saku made his way to the far side of the convoy, sprinting in a zigzag pattern as the pair made their escape. At the 30 second mark a fountain of flames leaped into the sky, followed by the turret of the tail tank.

Valter swung his leg around so he sat backwards in his saddle, and shouldered his Suomi. He fired bursts of full auto at soldiers who were firing at them. The muzzle brake belched flames as green tracers lanced out toward the Russian soldiers. A few fell, most simply just scattered behind tanks. Only for some of those tanks to erupt in flames and burning shrapnel. Which shredded any unlucky soldier who had been near the hulls.

The other two dragons raced ahead, running between tanks as they made their way towards the safety of the forests. Tank crews frantically abandoned their vehicles, unsure if they were mined. The chaos of the moment rendered any enemy fire insignificant. As a parting gesture, Valtter fired off the last of his ammo before he repositioned himself in his saddle and disposed of the empty drum into a sack behind him. He pulled out a spare drum from a pouch on his torso and locked it into place before he hunched down low as the pair made their escape.

The other two dragons eventually formed up on Saku again, all three now headed back to the base their unit had been operating out of for the last week. The dragons eventually slowed their pace to what would be a trot for a horse. All three panted, their breath came out as great clouds of condensing water vapor in the cool winter air.

All three riders exchanged thumbs up, relieved that they had completed the raid without any casualties. It was a perfect execution, just like the shock and awe tactics taught when they were in training. The enemy had been caught off guard and unable to defend themselves, which resulted in a swift victory for the trio. Valtter and Saku took the lead on their journey back, riding through the pine woods for about three hours. They humans snacked on strips of jerky and even offered some to their trusty mounts. Saku managed to get in a few extra pieces of dried venison before Valtter playfully scolded him. Saku responded with a low growl, but it only made Valtter laugh more.

Valtter gave Sakus' neck a friendly pat as they rode over the ridgeline and descended into the valley that lead toward the Finnish base. "You'll have plenty to eat at camp, you hungry furball," Valtter assured the drake. As they approached the base, they passed by a pair of guards stationed in a foxhole surrounded by cut pine bowls and logs.

A soldier called out with a cheerful "Hyvaa Paivaa!" the man waved a hand in greeting. The Dragoons responded their own waves, while even the dragon nodded there heads toward the guards. The trio of riders dismounted from their dragons as they approached the entrance, The three humans making their way over to a command tent where soldiers hurried in and out. the dragons going to eat from buckets of food nearby.

Valtter strode into the tent, his two comrades followed close behind. He approached a table, and clicked his heels together and saluted sharply. The officer who sat at the table looked up wearily at the three dragoons and returned their salute with little enthusiasm. He bore the mark of a Kaptein on his shoulders, and Valtter's unit had been temporarily assigned to assist that officer's unit.

Despite their valiant efforts, the Finnish army had been pushed back after three months of intense fighting. However, for every fallen Finnish soldier, five Russian soldiers also perished. On paper, it seemed like a favorable exchange rate, but the enemy seemed to have an endless amount of troops at their disposal while the Finnish forces were slowly depleted. With supplies dwindling and resources scarce, food and ammunition became precious commodities. The ski troops and dragoons had played a crucial role in the sabotage of supply lines, but they were often overpowered by brute force attacks.

"Undersargent," the Kapitain began, his tone grave. "I'm sure you understand our situation. The Soviets are not known for their generosity in times like these." He rose from his seat and surveyed each person in the room. A scar ran across his face, from his right jawline to left temple. it twitched as he frowned before the man sighed.

“though you're not aware of the full situation. The politicians have flown to Moscow, and it seems like they're on the brink of making a deal... Last night, one of our military intelligence operatives in the group transmitted a message with some of the Soviet's demands." The man slammed his fist onto the table, and clenched his jaw in frustration.

The officer slammed his fist onto the table again, anger seeping through his words. "Those bureaucrats want to ship us all of the Dragoons off to Siberia, under the guise of 'crimes' against the party. They have no loyalty and will throw anyone under the bus to save themselves. The military has issued orders for all Dragoons and Sisi units to retreat to Helsinki, where neutral cargo ships will transport you away." He slumped into a chair, the officer pulled up a bottle of vodka and took a swig straight from it.

Valtter's sharp blue eyes bore into the man in front of him, and a small smile tugged at the corners of the officer's mouth as he saw the fierce determination in the young soldier's gaze. "Sir, may I respectfully request to disregard these orders?" Two more voices chimed in behind him, showing their support for Valtter's words.

The Officer raised an eyebrow and extended the bottle to the young Undersargent, The older man settled back into the creaky chair. "Undersargent, other countries are dismissing this as The Phoney War. The Allies don't want to admit that it's a real conflict. They hesitated to send volunteer regiments, and their citizens have no desire for war. But we Finns understand that this is only the beginning; more fighting will surely come. I sense it in my old bones, like the approach of a winter storm."

Valtter took a swig from the bottle and handed it to the female rider behind him. She took it gratefully while the third rider chimed in. "But shouldn't we be fighting for our motherland? Shouldn't we stay and defend it, even if it means sacrificing ourselves?"

The Kapitain shook his head, and sighed. “Finland for the time being is done, it is the opinion of the Military that we should not give our elite soldiers to the Soviets so they can be forced to train our enemies. Or be made an example of by the Red Army, instead we will send you far away."

Valtter's hands were clenched into tight fists, but he forced himself to relax them. "Sir, what would you do?" he asked the Officer. The officer let out a chuckle and smiled wryly, with a glint of mischief in his eyes as he replied, "Personally, I'd go far away - maybe even to the Americas."

Valtter grimaced and spit on the floor when the country far beyond the Atlantic was mentioned. He scoffed, "All they did was send us food. They wouldn't even fight in The Great War."

The officer chuckled at his response. "True, but..." He raised a hand to silence any objections. "I had the chance to visit after their second Civil War and meet their military leaders and witness the resilience of their people. They will not remain idle in this war; they are like a sleeping dragon. Once awakened, they will unleash destruction on any who try to harm them."

Valtter pursed his lips in contemplation, and he glanced at his squad members before he turned back to the officer. "We'll go, but I wish you all the best of luck," he said, extending his hand to the Kapitian. The seasoned veteran gripped his hand firmly, a smile on his face. "Remember, Undersaregent: experience and cunning always triumphs over youth and enthusiasm. And these Russian officers are so green," he chuckled as he shook hands with the rest of the Dragoons.

Valtter emerged from the tent with his comrades, all of them made a quick stop to grab food, water, and supplies for their journey back to Helsinki. Valtter opened his hand find a travel ticket: "SS. Pink Star, Dragon deck."

Valtter rushed over to Saku, came to a sudden stop next to the fluffy drake. "Saku, we only have 4 days before departure," he said breathlessly. "Kommand has decided to send all the dragoons away, but the captain believes it's for the best. He gave me a ticket for a ship leaving from Helsinki."

The man rambled on to the white furred dragon, catching him up on all the information he could remember. He was sure he had missed some important points and details, but they could be filled in later. They only had four days to make the trip back to Helsinki before they had to leave.

Saku must have sensed the urgency in the rambling, or just recognized the great distance because the dragon quickly ate the last of the frozen meat in the bucket before him. Then lowered himself down for Valtter to easily mount up. Valtter called out to the other three riders with him, waving his hand. The other three were busy preparing to leave and simply waved him on. The female rider called out “well catch up with you, yes! Go on Undersargent!"

Valtter nodded to show he understood and quickly adjusted his face mask and ensured his coat was fully closed. He held on tightly as Saku interpreted the woman's words as a signal to move forward. The drake picked up speed at a steady stride, faster than a horse's trot and known among Dragoons as a 'Hunting' pace. Wingless dragons had incredibly strong legs that allowed them to maintain medium-speed paces for extended periods of time.

They would endurance hunt like humans sometimes, old Finnish tribes use to Endurance hunt certain animals with the aid of Saku's furred dragon ancestors. Finnish people always had a close relationship with the dragons who they evolved nearby. The dragons were perfectly adapted to the environment, and humans being able to build and innovate lead to an eventual partnership. Similar to the way man and dogs came to work together.

“you know… it's gonna be weird to leave this place…" Valtter said as he watched the snow covered woods pass by. The idea of leaving made it seem so new, like the possibility of never seeing these sights again made them wonders to behold. His voice was soft and spoke in faraway thought, but Saku could still understand it.

“But think, one day we will return. One day this land will be free, happy, and peaceful." the drake spoke his own head turned to take in the surroundings as he ran. Valtter pulled a hand free of a mitten and gently combed his fingers through the dense multi layer fur that insulated the furred dragon.

“yeah, maybe the US will be nice too…." he mused and the dragon snorted with amusement.

“It'll be interesting, that's for sure." the drake said with a toothy grin, and Valtter nodded his head in agreement even though the drake couldn't see him.

“I'm sure it will be."