His eyes look around nervously, his legs seeming to quiver at a constant rate. Three steps, quiver. Three more steps, quiver. Two steps, nothing. Three steps, quiver. Three steps....<br/><br/>Sighing, Gratus look around not seeing much besides his fellow soldiers in front and behind him. Muttering to himself to be strong he checked his sword, pulling the cold steel out halfway to check to see if it wasn't stuck in his scabbard. It wasn't stuck, yet the scabbard seemed to cling to the weapon as if lovers lips pushed against each other and one did not want to let go while the other had to withdraw. Growling, he slammed the sword back into the scabbard, peering around the green forest. The trees seeming to close in all around the legions, suffocating them as they traveled deeper and deeper into it.<br/><br/><br/>Three steps, quiver. Three-- "Hail Caesar Augustus! Greetings, Signifier. What is with the thickness of our lines?" Gratus cocked his head to the side, seeing how had said that. His eyes focused on a horseman and the signifier as they began to engage in chat. Though they were too far away for him to hear much, it calmed him some what. He was sure they were discussing how the camps would be set up once they had exterminated the german threat, and how the money would be split amongst the infantrymen.<br/><br/>A smile curved the edge of his lips. Though he had only been in service for a month then thrown into the 18th legion Gratus, though scared out of his mind, was itching to get a first kill, and he knew with the thousands of soldiers in front and behind him, there wouldn't be enough germans to go around.