"It's colder than a well-digger’s ass out here." Jagger shivered as he pulled his bandana up around his mouth and breathed heavily into it.
"No shit." Layne stomped his feet to try to get some warmth into his body. "This weather makes my damn leg hurt," he grumbled.
"Well you'd never know it by lookin' at you. You're a fighter."
Layne had heard that his whole life, and while he agreed, it sometimes just annoyed him. "I'm not special at all. Some of my friends didn't make it back from over there."
"You think that's why you joined up with us?" Jagger asked, pulling a cigarette from his pack. He held it in his hand, appearing to contemplate whether he really wanted to light it or not. That would require him to move his bandana over and might make him more cold.
"Don't know," Layne shrugged. "Maybe I just have a death wish and I never really knew it."