Captain Köttrdóttir let her ladden breakfast tray thud on the table as she took her seat.
Slicing into the piles of flapjacks, sausages, and eggs, she halted upon seeing the tray of one of the new transfers, seated across the mess table from her.
“Soldier,” Heads turned, and Éadaoin looked up from her small plate of milk toast to find herself being addressed. “Ye get full drills and there be no easin’ up iffin yer hungry from a skimpin’ onna meal.”
Éadaoin nodded. “I do better with a light breakfast. I will make up for it at lunch, I promise.”
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