"We don't know which is which," Rafe says into my ear, "though obviously knowing which one belongs to Wright is going to be useful. Both teams are going to be sending out runners - scouts - trying to get the lay of the land. Wright will probably use Luca for that. So, if "Why do you think he would he use Luca as a scout?" I ask, curious, laying flat on my belly and using the binoculars to attempt to locate the camp that should be to our south, along the line of our canyon. "Because he's fast as hell," Jackson says into the earpiece, his voice pleased and a bit entertained.

you see Luca coming from the direction of one team or the other, we'll know which camp is which."

"Hey, where's Jesse?" I ask, bright and interested.

"Could we please cut down on the chatter?" says another voice along the line, making me jump. "Some of us are trying to concentrate."

I grimace a bit. I didn't know the rest of the team was on the line with us.

"Watch it, Miller," Rafe snaps, not liking his tone. A beat passes. "But yes, Clark, please concentrate and keep the questions to a minimum. Cadet Sinclair is out of range by now, out on his own mission."

I smirk but do as my brother says, concentrating and attempting to locate any movement in the area around that southern landing space, wondering a little where Jesse is and hoping he'll be okay.

Unfortunately, despite my excitement this morning, the majority of the Game is...boring as hell. I spend the vast majority of my time just looking through the binoculars, scanning the trees, looking for movement. I find that movement pretty fast on both teams, marking down the location of enemy soldiers on my map with the red pen Jackson left for me and relaying the information to Jackson and the team below.

Jackson uses that information to chart the movement of the enemy troops and give advice to Rafe about how he should move, predicting where the other teams might send their soldiers next and setting Rafe up to be on the defense.

by I listen to the chatter over the earpiece, my elbows starting to hurt

boring, I say to my wolf, who is laying on her back in my soul with her paws up in the air, her tail

jaws at an

then flinch and refocus my eyes when the tinny sound of paintball guns

it, even though I know Rafe and Jacks will tell

a little smug. "If the other teams were trying to work together to come for ours,

break out and

across the river. I shift my binoculars

precisely what I'm seeing,

their eyes in this situation. As I watch, treport that the teams seem to be in a heated fight with several soldiers on either side taking hits and

into the forest, I guess going back to their bases - I'm not really

uf

none of them

know.

- or, at

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