"Pass that crate up here, City Boy." The ladder borne teenager called down patronizingly.
"For the last time, I'm not a 'City Boy', dammit! I grew up in Rizenbul, for crying out loud!" Edward fumed, lugging the half full wooden crate of lemons over to the base of the tree from which Russel was perched.
"Tch. You still cart stuff around like a pansy," He commented snidely, rolling his eyes as he flicked a pesky wisp of hair from his face, and jumped down to take the box himself. Edward sneered as he watched the taller boy walk effortlessly back to his ladder toting the heavy box. It wasn't as though he wasn't strong enough, but carrying heavy boxes of produce was not among the list of things he generally employed his strength for, and unbeknownst to most people, it takes a certain amount of skill to not throw one's back out just lifting it improperly. Edward's knowledge of human anatomy as well as weight balance and center of gravity might have helped him if his pride hadn't taken over for his sensibility.
Ed ran a gloved hand along his forehead, his cheeks turning faintly red from the heat.
"S'matter? You're hot already?" Russel asked, noting Ed's exhausted behavior, "Really, if you insist on wearing that black coat in the summer sun, you're going to get heat stroke, City Boy."
"Shut up!" Ed spat, begrudgingly adding, "Like hell I'm going to give you the satisfaction of taking my clothes off in front of you." The Tringham boy snorted. (Ed hadn't meant for it to come out like that.)"Don't worry, Shorty," Russel said, descending the ladder and hoisting the now full box of lemons, "You'll get used to the hard work eventually."
Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea for the young Tringham to walk away at that moment, knowing that even while inexperienced at picking lemons, Edward Elric knew a thing or two about aerodynamics and velocity.
That, and he was a very good shot.