Squadlings

"The Girl is right.", Mansoor said in considered agreement. "Our Horses are at the verge of collapse."

"And We all too.", The Young Captain chuckled and slowed down his horse.

Having understood the gesture, Mansoor aimed his Flare gun up towards the sky. And with a crackle, a sparkling green light contested with the storm clouds for a fair moment- giving a gesture to all of the squad members to slow down and tighten the column length.

Old method it was, but in a condition when the best equipments of communications are damned down, it was one of the resort one might rely to signal his comrades.

.

.

"Comrades!"

A commanding voice striked past the ears of the three rookies, riding at the rear of the column.

"Juniors! It's a Green signal from the Captain. Pace your muddy horses up to me, and follow me!", The gigantic man riding in front of the three shouted. He was Cavalier el Bridget, a senior of the cadets, and the incharge of the rookies of the rear. Although being just a single semester of seniority to the 'rookies', This young man of reared physique was known for his sturdiness and reliability.

"Ye Senior!"

The rookies shouted an agreement in response, three at the same time. But, all three of them knew well they can't just speed up their already exhausted horses, which were barely able to walk on their mud drenched worn out hooves, given the three were not given any A-class equipment like the Captain and the Deputies at all. Thanks to this small discrimination, They were about a mile away from the front of the column, only being cohesioned by the seniors in the middle.

Anyways the condition, The Senior's words were out of his mouth, and it must be obeyed like God's will.

Unwillingly, the three squeeze up their stouty and inferior horses to match their senior's pace, barely not being held down by the exhaustion and terribleness of the weather.