I Wanna be in the Cavalry

thebagel

Active Member
On his horse, Tobias trotted to the line of soldiers, bringing his horse to make a statement to these men. As he dismounted, he approached them. His jackboots on well trodden ground. He began to pace, examining each of them as he spoke. "Now many of you stand before me today, to answer Lincoln's call. To save your country from this.. insurrection. How dandy." He had given this lecture many times before. He was on auto pilot as he went over the new soldiers. He's a little skinny, and those two probably never seen a horse. He slowed down when he passed by a small blond man. Malnourished already? He won't last two days out of camp. Thank god he won't be marching. He shook his head. "Some of you joined to avoid the sheriff or the streets." Toby had less respect for these men. He worried they would desert him given the chance.

He continued to pace, turning when he reached the end of the line. "But Lincoln isn't here to command you, I am. For the rest of your time here, you answer to two men. God above-" He stopped and looked to the small blond man again. "And me." He kept walking, passing a man a few years older than him. "For whatever reason, you were sent to me. You won't need to worry about marching, nor grow any sea legs. You've joined the 2nd US Dragoons." One of the recruits near the blond man had been chewing tobacco the whole time. He decided he would wait until the sergeant passed to spit, thinking this crazed vet wouldn't hear anything. Cannons probably blew his ears out.

Hearing someone spit and hearing it hit the ground, Tobias turned on his heel. "Which of you farm boys is spitting when I'm talking to you?" He quickly went back, finding a man with some spittle on his chin. "It was you, wasn't it you inbred." Before the recruit could answer, Toby's hand was on his jaw. "Open your mouth." A frightened recruit hesitantly obliged. Once it was open, Toby stuck his fingers in his mouth and fished around for the chew. Finding it, he grabbed it and flicked it to the ground. He scolded the chewer, but that was the extent of his discipline. He didn't care if they used tobacco, but he wouldn't stand for them to spit when he was talking to them.

"You won't need to march or grow sea legs. You won't have to haul shells either. You're all horse soldiers now." He acted as if nothing had happened, a skill he had learned on the frontier. He whistled and his horse came to his side. "You will need to learn basic horse care. These animals are as important as your saber or carbine." He began scratching the horses' neck. No man would ever see such kindness from him, but his horses received it daily. "Without them, you're just infantry. Have any of you village idiots ridden a horse before? We'll start with mounting."

After showing the recruits how to do it a few times, he stepped aside. "Any questions? You start." He motioned to the man at the front of the line. They went down the line, practicing their mounting. Some men got it the first few times, others needed multiple attempts. They kept going, and Toby waited for Private Helsdan to mount his horse.
 
Standing out in front of him like this only made her nerves run wild. Here she was having to pretend she was a man. Among men. Needless to say, this wasn't going very well. Hell, she could hardly act female half the time, and she was one. She wasn't sure how the hell she was going to pull this off. Phoebe had hardly spent time around men of her age, well besides the ones she pissed off. Each time one of them even looked at her, she was afraid she might pass out. What would happen if they would figure out who she really was. Needless to say, she wasn't looking forward to figuring that out.

She kept her eyes on his horse, doing her best to avoid all manner of eye contact. At least the horse wouldn't rat her out. She held her breath as he walked past her, his notable slow down sending a chill through her spine. Shit shit shit shit shit shit. She straightened her posture, her heart pounding against her chest. But once he finally passed, a sense of relief shot through her body. She released the air from her body, relaxing a bit more.

Phoebe already wasn't feeling too great about their new leader, but all hope was tossed out the window as she watched him fish the tobacco from the man's mouth. Granted, she didn't chew tobacco, but that certainly didn't mean she was doing anything better. She was doing much worse.

She kept her eyes ahead, adrenaline pushing through her body. She listened to his words, unable to control the immense fear she felt. God, it was awful. She silently watched the men mount the horse, taking notes on what each of them did. Phoebe had ridden a horse in the past, but that was many years ago. And she had help. "You can do this," She whispered beneath her breath as she slowly approached the horse.

She gently stroked the horse's neck, trying to calm her nerves. Phoebe glanced towards her commander, only to look away just as quick. She inhaled sharply, wrapping her hand around the horn, ensuring she had a good grip. She then slid her left foot into the stirrup, taking in a deep breath before yanking herself upwards. Phoebe panicked, nearly falling off, but managing to get her right leg up and around the horse.

A small smile poked at the corner of her cheeks at her small victory. Damn straight. Phoebe remained up there for a second or two longer before deciding it was time to get off. She went to pull her leg back over, but leaned back too far. She scrambled to find her grip once again, but was too late. Before she knew it, Phoebe hit the ground, pain shooting through her shoulder. The horse certainly wasn't pleased, leaning up on it's hind legs, kicking it's front legs towards her. Phoebe immediately went to cover her head, pulling herself into a defensive position.
 
Tobias watched as recruit after recruit mounted the horse. He had his doubts about the small blond man, but he was gentle with his horse. It gave him some hope. He watched as he struggled onto the horse, amazed he had actually done it. "Why Helsdan, I didn't think you could do it."

Perhaps he spoke too soon, as dismounting seemed to be too much. He sighed watching him scramble to stay on the horse. Would he manage to stay on or fall straight to the ground? Athos hit the dirt and his horse was rearing. It was a great example of how quickly things could turn sour, but he had no time to give a lesson.

Toby drowned out the sounds of a few men chuckling, he had to act before this man was crushed. His horse was already broken, a gunshot wouldn't scare it away. If he pulled the reigns, he would come down on top of the recruit. He ran to him, keeping low and grabbing his collar. He ran, his scabbard dragging along the ground along with Athos. He pulled him away from his horse's kicking hooves. When Toby thought he was safe, he heaved him further with a small grunt. "Get on your feet. You'll get scalped lying down." Somedays Tobias forgot he wasn't on the frontier anymore.

As soon as he let go of his uniform, the sergeant went to his horse's side. His hands on it's neck and jaw. He was talking to it. "Hey hey hey, easy now. It's alright." He kept petting it, even after the horse had calmed down. He took his gloves off and placed them on top of the saddle. His hand disappeared as he reached into a pouch. He pulled it out, his hand full of oats. Toby turned to speak to his soldier as the horse ate from his hand. "Nothing personal, he's just been overworked."

When the oats in his hand were gone, he pulled a handkerchief from his shirt under his coat. Wiping his hands, he put his gloves back on. "Don't fret, there will be plenty of opportunities to ride a horse in the cavalry."

He was speaking to everyone but looking at Athos. He's already ate the dirt and we haven't even done any rifle training.
 
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Well day one certainly wasn't going to plan. She half expected a painful impact, but instead, she felt strong hands wrap around the collar of her shirt. She helped push herself away with her feet, her heart pounding in her ears. Phoebe could barely understand his words, much less head them. She let out a quiet pant, pushing herself over onto her knees. She steadied herself with her hands as she stared down at the mud coated ground beneath her. She forced out a few shaky breaths of air, trying to slow her rapid heart beat.

She knew her hands were shaking, but she chose to ignore that. Slowly, Phoebe raised to her feet, doing her best to ignore the shooting pain through her shoulder. She winced, gingerly rubbing it with her hand before falling back into line. Phoebe did her best to sweep off some of the mud from her uniform, but it was really no use. She wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or to be scared. Would she get in trouble for this? Guess I'll find out.

She could hear the quiet gossip and laughs from the other men, especially when the captain looked directly at her.

Phoebe did her best to ignore their rude words and just move on.
 
Seeing his muddy uniform brought his own attire to his attention. He wasn't as dirty as his recruit, but the tip of his scabbard had scraped through the mud. Hearing the rest of them laugh and gossip, he scanned the line.

He waited roughly three seconds for them to pay attention to him. Then he began to shout at them again. "All right you fools. If I wanted chumps I would have asked for infantry." Toby didn't have much respect for the infantry. He saw it as a job for the simple minded. Walk and walk, shoot, then walk some more. "We don't have enough horses for you, but we have some coming in from Ohio. I can't drill you on horseback, but you will work on your foot work."

He shook his head and walked down the line. "Some of you boys couldn't lift yourself up. Never had an honest days work? Our quartermaster has more than enough for you. Time to earn your pay boys." He had no idea about any of their pasts, but he didn't need to to insult them.

He unsheathed his saber and pointed to his soldiers. "Five ranks. Stand five abreast. Two yards between rank." As they moved to formation, he used the back of his saber to nudge them for proper form.

He remounted his horse. "Five hundred yards east, don't take all day." He would trot beside them as they marched to a line of wagons and tents.
 
She hadn't the faintest idea of what he was actually having them do, but she decided protesting or asking might be a stupid idea, so she remained quiet. Phoebe followed the other men as the fell into line. She did her best to maneuver herself around everyone, trying to find where she fit.

Well, it certainly didn't work. Phoebe ended up at the back of the line, the natural pack order falling into place. Strongest in front, weakest in the back. She despised the sentiment. Sure, she couldn't compare to them in physical strength, but she could best them in other categories. Granted, those skills probably weren't important to the army, but Phoebe elected to ignore that.

If she could just focus on what she could do, survival was a favorable outcome. And probably a likely one. All she had to do was last.

She broke into the march, carefully watching the other men, ensuring she was doing it right. How long is a yard? Phoebe honestly didn't know, but that's what happened when you had a shit education. You don't exactly learn the basics. She huffed out a breath, shaking her head. Just ignore it. You'll stop when you stop.
 
Watching his recruits fumble around to find their position, he noticed that Athos had found himself at the back of the group. Nudged around by the other men. Toby shook his head, having higher hopes of him. I'll see to it he's marching at the front of the line in no time.

He was silent as they marched, only watching to make sure they were spaced properly. Once they arrived at the quartermaster's tents he dismounted. "Stay here. Until I call you." He would walk a few yards to the front of an open tent. "Quartermaster Phillips." A man a few years older and many pounds heavier looked up from his desk. "Yes, Sergeant McDonough?" Phillips was another man who served on the frontier, but Toby knew him only vaguely before being in the same company.

"I have some gentlemen with idle hands who would love to be put to work." He looked around, trying to find wagons that needed to be unloaded. "They'll need their kit as well." The quartermaster rose from his seat and reached for a leather-bound book. "I'm sorry but we haven't had any new wagons come in. You'll have to find something else for them to do."

The only thing Toby could see was a neatly stacked cord of wood. "Who did this?" "D Company." He grabbed some pieces and threw them aside. He was shoving others, kicking the pile. He didn't stop until it was all on the ground. "What a mess they left you. Don't worry, these gentlemen will take care of it."

He turned to face the soldiers. "Alright boys, get to it." That should give him time for his paperwork. As the quartermaster was scurrying around taking notes of his supplies, Tobias was wiping the mud off his scabbard.
When the quartermaster was finished, the sergeant called the men over one at a time. As each men got their kit they signed to show they had received their gear, and Toby signed after. When they were done, they were sent back to stack wood. Athos was called in last, and it was deliberate.

"Helsdan, sign here acknowledging you've received the rest of your kit, and you're now responsible for this equipment." He wasn't sure if half of these guys could read, let alone sign their name. "Here's your Sharps carbine, New Army Remington, your saber.." He would go on down the list of the equipment being issued. He had repeated it so often, he could do it in his sleep. "Do you need assistance with this?" It was something he asked all of his recruits, he knew they could dress themselves, but they didn't know the proper way wear their equipment. He would teach them once if they wanted, any other time he would drill them over any mistakes.
 
She followed after them, anxiously watching as each recruit received their equipment. The fear burning through her body just about sending her to her knees. Phoebe released a shaky breath of air, glancing up as her name was called. She inhaled sharply, taking a step forward. She glanced down at the paper, scanning over it. She read through some of the provided information, which was primarily what he said previously. She nodded slowly, pausing before taking the graphite pencil. She froze, almost signing her own name before fixing it and signing Athos'.

Phoebe was quick to take the equipment, trying to balance it all in her arms as she went, clearly panicked. But in respense to his question, she released a quiet sigh of relief. "Yes sir, I-I'm not too sure what I'm to do with all of this," She sighed with a quiet chuckle, carefully setting down some of her items.

She started with wrapping the belt around her waist, only being able to wear it at it's smallest loop. Even then, it was still loose. Needless to say, this wasn't an enjoyable experience.
 
When he hesitated, he was worried this recruit really couldn't write their name. Can he read? He saw Athos struggle with the equipment and was glad to have asked. He helped him put his things down to manage them. Where to start. Seeing the belt on the smallest loop and still loose, he knew this wouldn't do. "They're getting smaller and smaller every day Phillips." He had noticed a trend of skinnier men joining, but Athos was by far the slimmest he had seen. He put his finger under his belt and wiggled it around on his stomach. "This won't do." He sighed it still needed cartridge boxes and a holster. He undid the belt and put it on the quartermaster's desk. "Do you have an awl?" The quartermaster went to a small trunk and produced the tool. He held it around Athos' waist until it was snug. He pinched the belt with his finger to mark where to put the hole. Stabbing the awl into the leather, he spun it around a little to widen it.

Giving the awl back to Phillips, he put the cartridge boxes and cap pouch on the belt along with the holster. Before putting it around his waist again, he saw the state of his uniform. "You really took a digger there." The mud had started to dry but he tried brushing it off, patting his recruit as he did. He was starting to feel sympathetic for him. Maybe he was an orphan? Maybe he had no father around growing up. He put a shoulder strap over him and wrapped the belt around him, closing it on the new hole he had made. He put his hands on his waist and gave it a small tug. "Much better."

He was noticing that he was standing right in front of Athos. He doesn't smell like a barn like the others. He took a step back, he was supposed to be instructing him, not doing it for him. He didn't want to waste time taking his own gear off only to put it on again. "You'll learn to use your cartridge boxes in due time..." Toby put a leather strap with a metal loop over Athos' shoulder. "This will keep you from dropping your carbine. Don't clip your Sharps yet." He continued explaining each piece of equipment and then putting it on his recruit. "Most of this can be carried on your saddle once you get a horse." He tried brushing the dirt off his uniform again without much luck. "Can always get a new one if need be" he said quietly.

The last thing he handed him was his carbine. Before handing it off, he pulled a lever underneath it opening the action. Toby inspected the breech, seeing it was empty. "Shoulder arms." He put the gun at his side, his hand around the trigger card and action. He soon held it out to Athos, waiting for him to take it and copy him.
 
She froze at the feeling of his hand slip beneath her belt, the slight wiggle of his fingers filled her chest with a sense of... Dread? Fear? Lord, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that it made her feel weak in the knees. His hands were warmer then she thought they would be, the feeling traveling through her shirt and onto her chest. Phoebe gulped down a long breath of air as he pulled back, undoing her belt. She immediately went to hold up her pants, wrapping her finger around the belt loops.

Phoe watched anxiously as they fixed her belt, a soft sigh leaving her body. She glanced down at the strap of leather, her eyebrows furrowing together as he slid the individual parts onto the belt. She was ready to grab it, but paused as he approached her, his arms sliding around her, and pulling the belt through. God she couldn't help the heat rising to her cheeks. Phoebe gulped down a breath, glancing down at the ground, trying to stop her pounding heart. One misstep. One slight of hand. He would know.

She felt him brush the dirt from her uniform, nearly yelping at the feeling of his hand nearly brushing over her right breast. She sniffed down her whimper, as he fixed the belt that was to be across her chest. Phoebe had just stood there like a rag-doll as he tried to make her into a soldier. Needless to say, a sigh of relief left her body as he stepped back. She listened to his words, her lips pulling into a fine line as she straightened up.

Phoebe heeded his instructions, quick to follow his guidance, straightening up , her hand tight on her carbine. "Like this?"
 
Tobias noticed Athos' reaction to his touch. Perhaps he didn't have any brothers to play or wrestle with in his childhood? It didn't bother him personaly to touch someone else. He had held and even carried men before. He'll warm up to his brothers in arms. He felt sorry for him really. Some men had an easy transition to the army, others it was a shock to them. He was hopeful that he would feel comradery with his unit in a few months. Toby would drag his soldiers off the battle field if he had to, but would they do the same?

It wasn't often he was so in depth with his instructions. He felt different with this recruit though, and Tobias didn't understand why. Was he feeling how a father would dressing his son for a ball? Or helping a younger brother? Not quite. He didn't know what it was, and pushed it to the back of his mind. Athos was a soldier and he was his officer, and it would stay that way. Though he would definitely keep a close eye on this one.

"Yes." He quickly looked over Athos, assuring everything was proper. "Hold your head high, you're a federal soldier." He smiled, seeing another green recruit dressed for battle. "Look to the horizon." Some men would hold their head too high, this tip seemed to help most. "You're dismissed. Join the rest of Company B."

After he finished up the paperwork with the quartermaster, he left the tent. "Form rank."
He stood in front of them, watching them get into formation again. "There's more to the army than stacking wood and dressing up."
He mounted his horse. "March south." He rode along side them as they walked.

They came upon some stumps at the edge of the woods with split wood on them. Toby dismounted his horse and pulled his own carbine from a scabbard on his saddle. "This ain't your grandpappy's musket." He pulled the lever and opened the breech. "This is a rifled breech loader." He reached into the cartridge box on his belt, and pulled out a linen cartridge "You could stuff it down the end likeield, but you'd be losing your main advantage." He put the cartridge in the open breech. "When you close it, it cuts the end off. If it doesn't, you won't burn the powder. As he closed his carbine it shaved the end off, leaving some powder on top of the closed action. "Cap it. And blow off the powder so it won't burn your face." Once he was loaded, he brought it to his shoulder. The hammer fell and the gun rose with a loud boom. Smoke and embers came flying out of the barrel, and some wood tumbled.

He looked to his men. "First five, step forward." They loaded up and fired, then the next five stepped forward. Most missed entirely, some hit the stump. He was eager to see how Athos would perform.
 
She looked towards the hills, holding herself tall. She stood there for what seemed like hours, a sigh of relief leaving her body as she was dismissed. She hurried back towards the other recruits. At the sound of his voice, she fell into the line, copying what the others were doing. She followed after them all, still at the far end of the trail. Still an outsider. Phoebe remained close, her eyes constantly searching the forest around them. It was a relatively peaceful place. Plus, plenty of hiding places if the situation called for it.

Phoebe nearly crashed into the man in front of her as they stopped. She quickly turned, facing Tobias once more. She watched carefully as he worked. She had used a gun before, but not one of this size. She had great practice with a handgun, which was important when your mother is a prostitute who invites men into your home unannounced. She was one hell of a shot. Now this would definitely prove to be a challenge. She observed the others, noting on how and why they were failing to hit the target, taking some notes for herself.

Before she knew it, it was her turn. She stepped towards the wood, stopping where the others had. She carefully went through the steps in preparing to fire, glancing towards her fellow five, who had completed the task much faster then she. Phoebe silently raised the gun, closing one eye as she aimed. With her thumb she pulled down the lock, adjusting her grip, her index finger resting against the trigger. She took in a slow breath, pulling back quickly. The gun fired beautifully, Phoebe hitting her target square in the center. Only problem, the kick back.

The gun forced back into her shoulder, pain shooting through her arm. Hell, if she wasn't bruised before, she definitely was now. Phoebe slowly lowered her weapon, her head turning towards her shoulder. She gently reached out to it, wincing, a quiet gasp leaving her mouth. Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. Not now. Please don't be dislocated. Please don't be dislocated.
 
Tobias waited patiently for them to shoot. He had become so accustomed to the blast, he didn't flinch when they fired. His eyes were fixed on their targets. He heard four shots, and they all missed. He glanced over to see who didn't fire. Athos was still getting ready. It didn't matter if he reloaded slower than the rest, he would was already miles ahead of a rebel with a muzzleloader.

Looking back to the wood, he saw a piece go flying off the stump, tumbling on the ground after. "Outstanding Helsdan." He was amazed. "Cease fire." He hadn't told anyone to reload, but he didn't want there to be any confusion as he stepped out in front of armed men. He went to the block of wood that had just been shot. A bullet right in the center. "Damn." He picked it up and looked for another. He found one that had just been grazed and put that on the stump. He looked back to the line of men and shouted to them. "This one is Helsdan's." He put it in between two stumps. If he could do it twice, he wanted proof in the wood. Maybe he'll split it. He saw Athos holding his shoulder when he returned.

"Hold it tighter next time. Boys this isn't a .32 your father uses to shoot foxes in the chicken coop. This is a .54 on 65 grains of powder." He knew this meant nothing to many of them. But it was something he drilled into memory. "Don't give it room to bite you. You're in control of the gun, not the other way around." He started to walk away. "And lean into a little more if it's knocking you back." He turned and ordered the first row to load and fire. There were some slight improvements the second time around, but he was waiting to see if Athos would nail his target again.
 
She gently rubbed her shoulder, the pain still ever present. She couldn't help but smile at Tobias' compliment. It was a fantastic shot. Hell, she did a great job. But then she was asked to do it again. She held onto her gun tighter this time, adjusting where the hilt ended up. It pressed right against the bruise, which was painful enough on it's own, but she would have to just push through.

Phoebe watched the other recruits shoot, their aim already beginning to improve. Just focus on the kickback and stay still. She told herself as her group readied to fire. She, once again, took longer then the rest, ensuring her stance was just right, the butt of the gun resting right in the crook of her shoulder. She closed one eye once more, aiming for the new piece of wood he had put up for her. Phoebe flicked down the lock, yanking back on the trigger, the gun firing once more.

Pain shot through her shoulder, god it hurt. She let out a gasp, slowly putting down her gun, inspecting her shoulder once again. Her condition certainly wasn't improving. Phoebe inhaled sharply, glancing back towards the wood, pleased to see it had splintered down the middle, toppling over the sides into two separate pieces. If she couldn't get off of a horse, at least she could fire a gun. It hurt like hell, but she could do it.
 
He saw Athos had taken some of his advice with his form. He was the last to fire again, but as long as he hit his target, Tobias didn't care. He watched downrange, awaiting the shot. He couldn't help but smile as he witnessed the wood splinter in two. "I'll be damned." He muttered. "I wish we had you out west." He spoke louder so he could hear him. He turned towards his soldier. "The Indians wouldn't have a chance with you-"

He paused seeing his carbine on the ground. Had he dropped it after he shot? Normally he would be in their face, ordering them to get that gun out of the dirt and hold it like their mother should be holding them. Or if they can't handle a gun, maybe they should go be a sailor and put their hands on the crew instead. But Athos wasn't a normal soldier. He clearly had skills. Skills Tobias wanted to preserve. Better to hold off. Don't want him learning to flinch. He calmly told him "Pick that up Private, that's no way to treat your things." He stepped towards the rest of the men. "Keep firing, same as before." He turned back to Athos. "Helsdan, no need. You've proven yourself today." Although he shouldn't be singling a soldier out, he wanted to see his talent wasn't wasted. "Just dry fire from here. Cock the hammer, practice your trigger. Keep the cap on so you won't damage the nipple."

The sergeant shouldn't have any favorites, he clearly saw Athos differently. When he told him he wished he was out west with them, he meant it. He could have saved a few fellow soldiers with sharpshooting like that. He had a gut feeling telling him to keep this soldier around. Tobias would do his best to make sure he would stay in his company and not sent out to whatever regiment needed to fill their ranks. He watched the rest shoot, but kept looking to see Athos. He could teach him to ride a horse in no time, he'd taught the lowliest men how. A crack shot for sure, but can't ride a horse.. No father or brothers? Possibly.. Then where'd he learn to shoot?

He spoke between the periodic gunfire. "You're an interesting man Private Helsdan."
 
She rubbed her shoulder once more, trying to soothe the pain burning through her body. After falling off of the horse and the immense bruising, she just about had enough of this. At least he was letting her take a break. Well somewhat. Pain coursed through her body. She paused, glancing up as she was addressed. She lifted her carbine, gently returning it to it's place, wincing as it barely grazed her arm. She tried to focus on resetting her gun, but couldn't. She glanced towards Tobias with a sigh. She hesitantly approached, pausing as he spoke. "A-About that sir... I-I really... I don't want to be a problem, but... It's my shoulder." She spoke quietly, motioning to her shoulder.

"Each time it kickbacks... After I fell off the horse. M-Maybe it's nothin'-" She mumbled, trying to make herself seem somewhat manly and strong. Even if she didn't feel like it.

All she knew was that she was in pain and her shoulder hurt like hell. Phoebe was worried if she shot again, something might happen and make it worse.
 
Toby was surprised to hear Athos speaking to him. "Yes?" He turned to him. Something about his shoulder? He sighed. He had a horse shot out from under him and he got up and kept fighting. Perhaps Athos just wasn't ready yet.

"If you think it's serious enough, we can have the surgeon look at it." He said he didn't want to be a problem but he was really throwing a wrench in his plans. I thought sharp shooting would have boosted his confidence. He wanted him to do well, but he wouldn't be coddling him. "Just because you have an eagle eye doesn't mean the rest of your unit does. They need their practice too." He watched as one shot landed four feet to the left of the target. "And a few prayers." They needed their own shooting practice but he couldn't let Athos just stand there doing nothing.

He wasn't sure how to go about this. Hearing faint bugles in the distance, his decision was made for him. I better drill them today too. Lord knows when they'll decide to send them to Virginia. He looked to Athos. He reached under his jacket, feeling around his vest. No point in marching with a lame arm. "This might help your shoulder." He pulled out a small flask. "Your canteen." He held out an open hand.
 
She shook her head instantly at the suggestion of the surgeon. "Y-Y'know what, it's probably not that bad... I-I should just rest it," She started, waving her good hand as to dismiss a problem.

Doctors would certainly need to be avoided in this situation. The last thing she wanted was someone poking around, and noticing her secret. She gulped down a breath of air, nearly jumping at the sound of the bugles. She looked back to Tobias, pausing slightly as he searched himself.

The moment he asked for her canteen, she fumbled with some of her equipment, managing to find it and hold it out for him. "What's that?" She asked, motioning towards the flask.

Already, she wasn't sure how she felt about him. So far, he had been kind yet stern. He didn't seem like the kind of man she would necessarily have to avoid at all costs, but then again it was only day one. Just stay out of trouble and you'll be fine. She told herself, reaching up to rub her shoulder once more, wincing at the sharp pain.
 
He shrugged when he said he didn't want to see the surgeon. It's not like he was going to amputate, just investigate the bruise. He did think a bruise would be a waste of the surgeon's time though.

When he held out his canteen, he took it from him. He opened it and started to pour from the flask. "Kentucky bourbon." He didn't pour a lot, but enough to taste it. He was cautious to pour too much, he didn't want any of his commanding officers smelling alcohol on one of his soldiers. He brought his nose to the canteen to check with a sniff. "Once you get your wages, you can get whatever spirits you fancy." This wasn't entirely true, it depended on whatever was available. If they were near a town, he would stop in and see what they could scrounge.

He closed his canteen and gave it back to him. Tobias took a sip from his flask before pocketing it again. "Go join them." He turned to the other men. "Present arms." He got on his horse and went in front of them. "That bugle is barking out orders. By the time you're done here, you'll know all of them by heart." He started to smile and look down. "Your horses will start to know them too." He became more serious. "You're not ready to join them on your first day. You'll only be in their way."

This new war had totally thrown off his usual training routine. A lack of supplies and horses, he had to improvise. A massive influx of troops made camp hectic. An injured private really messed up his plans. He had to improvise. "Okay, we'll do what we can without horses."
 
Her eyes widened slightly as he poured some of the liquid into her canteen. Truth be told, Phoebe had never tried alcohol before. She stared down at the canteen, hesitantly taking it back. She followed his quick instructions, falling into line with the others. Phoebe brought the canteen to her lips, taking a small sip. The burning sensation hit first. She immediately started to cough, her face cringing a bit as she tried to ignore the strong taste.

Phoebe grimaced, returning the canteen to it's original location before looking back at Tobias. The strong taste lingered in her mouth, her lips twitching as she tried to calm her nerves. Clearly, alcohol wasn't her fancy.

She shook the feeling away, just trying to focus on his instructions. She looked towards the other recruits, trying to get a good look at who she would be stuck with. Pain shot through her heart, her mind traveling back to her little brother. God she missed him. But, it was better this way. He was safer back home.

"Ay- nice shootin' back there," A voice spoke from behind.

Phoebe tensed, glancing over her shoulder, only to find a man near twice her size. She gulped down a breath and forced herself to nod.

"Didn't think ya' even knew howta' hold a gun," He chuckled, nudging her in the back.

"Yep... I do," She spoke quietly, rocking back on her heels.

The exchange was awkward to say the least.
 
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