Philip's POV
The sharp blast of my whistle cuts through the afternoon air, and every kid on the training field freezes like statues. Half of them collapse dramatically onto the grass, while others groan in protest. Little Nelson throws both arms skyward and shouts at the top of his lungs.
"We want more time!"
A grin tugs at my lips as I shake my head. "You want nothing, Nelson. You barely finished the last drill."
The boy gives me an exaggerated pout before snapping off a mock salute and flopping down beside his friends. I make a mental note to mention his beta potential to his parents later. The kid has attitude and heart in equal measure.
"Alright, everyone pack up," I call out. "Water bottles first, then cool down. Anyone with energy left can help me haul the equipment back."
