Whittier returned with an 8-pack of beers in hand, a wide grin on his face as he handed them out to the guys.
Damon raised an eyebrow, thinking about how alcohol might not mix well with training, but before he could say anything, Ivan leaned over, patting him on the shoulder.
"We don't drink to get drunk, we drink to relax," Ivan said in his thick accent, flashing a toothy grin.
Damon chuckled and shrugged, taking the can offered to him.
He wasn't much of a drinker, but the day was meant to unwind, and after the fight, a beer didn't seem so bad.
They all gathered by the lake, their fishing rods in hand.
Whittier was already showing them how to tie the knots, cast the line, and patiently wait.
Miles, as usual, was struggling with even getting the bait on the hook.
"Man, this ain't it," Miles grumbled, fumbling with the fishing line. "Why does this feel harder than training?"
