Survive.
That's all Sparrow's known.
Ice. Snow. And the Cold War.
The never ending winter that's made captive the people of Icadia. Death knocks on everyone's door, lowering the population while robbing them of their joy.
Joy. Another commodity S...
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"Again," I instructed, crossing my arms as I watched her repeat the combination.
Two left jabs, and a right hook. It should be simple, easy, but she's sloppy and making them look impossible.
"No," I complained, causing her to pull her hood back and run a hand through her raven black hair. "Again."
"I've been doing this for the past three days," she argued, marching over to me.
"And you'll keep doing it until you get it right. If you can't do the basics, I have nothing to build on. Now, do it again."
Moving her jaw to the side as her lips puckered in vexation, I was pleasantly surprised when she did as told. Looking at her shadoe watching from above, I was sure she had some influence in Sparrow's compliance. I'd have to thank her later for her help.
As Sparrow continued her training exercise, I felt the closeness of my own shadoe approaching. Looking over my shoulder, Beau watched on, amusement radiating off of him through the bond.
It's not funny. We need her to be a strong fighter.
Arguing that I was no fun, he sat down in the snow, still allowing me to draw warmth from him. Having a polar bear as a shadoe had its perks, one of them being that I rarely ever was cold in this frozen world of Icadia. While others had to layer up to maintain a comfortable body temperature, I did not.
I was in the middle of mentally talking to Beau when the rough texture of semi-frozen ice smacked against my jaw, seeping down into my thin shirt. Ignoring Beau's roar of laughter, I wiped the snow off my face and locked eyes with the shrew who threw it.
"I'm done punching the air like some fool," she spat, her eyes ablaze like a blue flame. "If you're going to teach me something, then teach me, but I'm not wasting another day-"
"Avery!"
Biting her lip in frustration because of the interruption, I turned my attention to Heath, who was jogging over. He was decked out in his snowsuit that we'd modified to make more suitable for combat, and he carried his spear across his back.
"Uh, sorry, Sparrow," he said when he noticed the scowl on her face.
"Don't apologize to her, just tell me what you called me for," I insisted, grinning on the inside when I saw her shake her head before complaining to Oak about me.
I guess your sense of humor is rubbing off on me, Beau.
A soft growl of approvement left his throat as I turned my attention back on Heath.
"General Yates wants to speak with you," he said, his dark brown eyes serious. "He says it's urgent."
Mentally preparing myself for the worst, I looked over at the woman watching us.
