We all froze at the sound, not daring to move. I felt myself holding my breath for five, ten, fifteen seconds, straining to hear anything out of the ordinary, before slowly exhaling. All the while I kept my eye on the distant form of Murke, our point man, watching as he slowly unclenched his raised fist, finally giving the signal to advance again. Praise the Emperor, we weren’t spotted, yet.
I glanced over my shoulder, scowling at the source of the noise. The snap of a dry twig might not seem like much, but when you’re in as deep as us, it’s a sound much like that of an exploding frag that could very well mean the difference between getting caught in an ambush or living to see another day. The man responsible for the noise, corporal Stevens of the 25th Praetorian Rifles, was pale and sweating profusely, he seemed to have caught on to what he did. Here's hoping the tosser learned from it.
That useless, bloody wanker..
We continued our cautious advance for anothe