The training yard had been loud for the last ten minutes.
Not chaotic. Focused.
Most of the compound had gathered along the stone edges and upper walkways to watch the duel happening in the center ring. Snow Team had only been in Vineyard a little over a week, but people had already learned something very quickly.
When Snow Team trained, you watched. Because someone usually ended up thrown through something.
Right now the attention of the entire yard was locked on two figures in the middle.
Sarge.
Tommy.
Sarge looked like a fortress that had decided to grow legs. Black rhino horns angled forward from his skull, thick shoulders filling the sunlight while faint threads of electricity crawled lazily along his forearms. The air around him always smelled faintly like iron and ozone.
Tommy stood opposite him.
