The strategists

The two boys were dancing on the small ring in front of the stunned soldiers. Every of their moves seemed calibrated for the other to dodge at the last instant. Their impressive display lasted more than an hour during which only Laurel broke a sweat, the strain on his mind, his shifting focus because of the moon and the irrepressible will to stare at it were hard to ignore.

Each time Laurel's killing intent would rise, Oswald put some distance in between them and gave some time for his friend to recover.

There wasn't much needed for the men cheering them to notice how abnormal they were. The little shine in their eyes caught more than one's attention, but because they were considered special in the camp already, a rank no one really knew about, they refrained from asking more.