Woohoo! - but weaker.

And finally, when everything stopped, a flash flashed before my eyes. A Polaroid shot showing me, helmet shifted to one side, bulging eyes, and tightly clenched mouth, migrated into my hands.

- For memory! - the girl-photographer smiled dazzlingly and disappeared into the crowd of onlookers.

- Well, ice? another instructor asked me as he unfastened the bindings.

“Ah ... a ... ice,” she answered, grunted, and then laughed.

A smile spread itself across my face against my will, and my fingers trembled from the influx of adrenaline. It's a game of instinct, but it works!

"Smolov?" I tested myself, resurrecting the image in my memory...