Roran was busy collecting the old newspapers out of his boots when his officer arrived in his unit. The paper was an excellent isolator, and did a good job keeping out the cold. Just like all men he stood up and saluted as their officer passed. Roran then continued collecting his gear and packing them on his horse's back as usual. A small tent, a small kettle, a small bag with personal items. Even in this march through hell, routine was everywhere. Being a cavalrist he had it more comfortable than the footsoldiers however. He had a horse to carry his gear, and if he would be too tired, to ride on, and the thick warm coat that was standard equipment to wear underneath the thick cuirass was perfectly suited for colder weather, compared to the thin uniforms worn by the infantry. "All right! Our unit has been called to do the rear guard today lads! Let's get a move on it!" Roran sighed as he understood the message. At least his officer was a brave and capable man, who had proven himself time over time. When he had packed his gear, rushing into a higher speed, he girded his sabre and mounted his horse. He turned to his own few men, being a Corporal had yielded him the command over several men. "I almost want these dragoons to catch up with us! I feel like slaughtering some frogs!" He said cheerfully to his men. It would be a dangerous day, and everything that would help the morale was good.