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The camp was busy the next morning; the orcs gathered up their scant belongings and bundled into whatever extra bit of clothing they could use to protect themselves from the cold. When they moved out, the only evidence to their presence were a few spent campfires and the odd corpse -- several of those who had been badly wounded had not lasted the night.
Kharn took a position at the very back of the regiment, ready to goad anyone who started to fall behind. Glūtkask was at the very front; Kharn was glad to get away from him. The captain had been in a fouler mood than usual since yesterday's skirmish, and he had kept eyeing Kharn as if daring him to do the same as Lushurd. Kharn, however, preferred to mind his own business. As for the rest of the soldiers, they seemed to have forgotten the brawl entirely -- after all, these things were not uncommon.
Grimly silent, they started off through the mountain pass.
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