As the small group found their checkpoint, the Russian loaded his revolver, knowing it would come in use if a patrol happened to come snooping around. He leaned against the wall next to the entrance and looked around.
"If amerikansky tired, amerikansky rest" he said in an obvious paradox of the Russian stereotype and took his cantine, raising it to his lips and taking a swig. He could've done that while walking, of course, but decided to do something since they were going to rest for a moment. In truth he couldn't wait to get back to camp and end this hellish trip of stealth and looming doom.
"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance,
the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe,
are challenged by this point of pale light.
Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.
In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves."
- Carl Sagan