Oswald stood amidst a group of women. They had the reputation to hardly wear the heavy armor, but in circumstance of war, workforce was worth its weight in gold. Recruited as cook, nurse or even persecutor, Oswald understood rapidly that the new eyes peeking at him could be a source of problem.
One of the only places he felt at ease had become crowded and with the rising moon, his worries had just started to accumulate.
"So? What the heck is he waiting for? Come quick, give us a hand!" One woman said, she had shoulder-length blond hair and a stern face.
Holding tightly onto a lock, she was fighting with the woman attached against a pillory. With no intention to stay calm, the women kept landing kicks and pulled each other's hair. The other women in the tent weren't faring better. At least Baggio enjoyed the view when they started to pull each other's clothes.
Toot. He played with his trumpet and silently giggled.
