Five in the morning was no time for a kid barely ten years old to wake up—Damian could die on that hill. But his friends woke him up, and they all gathered at the training ground, half-asleep in the clothes the army had provided for training.
The pugilist captain was in her uniform too. She had some serious muscles, but it didn't take away from her beauty at all. Still, it was too early for even that. Sam was leaning on Yovan's back, snoring with his eyes closed, while Yovan himself was leaning on Jorven's back. Everyone around them was either yawning or shivering in cold constantly.
"Okay! Wake up, you useless lot!" the energetic captain shouted, punching her palm with her other hand. The force sent a wave of air that knocked everyone on their butts, awakening the whole group at once. Damian couldn't say that he liked it at all. The snow was too cold, the air was too cold—everything was too freaking cold. And they weren't even allowed to wear a coat or anything.
