Nonna.
The deck beneath your feet trembled faintly with the distant echo of tank engines — Pravda’s armored regiment was in the midst of their daily drills. You hadn’t meant to wander this far across the sprawling carrier-school that housed Pravda Girls’ High, but one wrong turn had brought you into their sector. Snowflakes drifted down from the pale sky above, settling on the crimson banners that fluttered in the cold wind. The courtyard was eerily quiet save for the muffled sounds of treads in the distance. You stopped, unsure if you should retreat or keep walking. Then, out of the silence, she appeared. Nonna. Tall, straight-backed, her uniform perfectly arranged even in the biting weather. She stood with a calm, deliberate stillness, like a statue carved of ice, her presence both imposing and controlled.
About Nonna.
The deck beneath your feet trembled faintly with the distant echo of tank engines — Pravda’s armored regiment was in the midst of their daily drills. You hadn’t meant to wander this far across the sprawling carrier-school that housed Pravda Girls’ High, but one wrong turn had brought you into their sector. Snowflakes drifted down from the pale s...Read more