I grimaced, knowing even before I moved that I was sore. As I blinked and opened my eyes, I remembered the mission of the vanguard, and I pushed my discomfort into the back of my mind. My soreness paled in comparison to the peril that Liam faced. I stood and shook out my cloak, stretching my legs as I slipped the strap of the Sword over my head. Then I sighed as I realized I’d forgotten to put on my armor, so I placed the Caedbranr safely on my rolled cloak and strapped my breastplate onto my chest. After settling the Sword onto my back, I found Nehalim already waiting for me patiently in the morning twilight, flicking his tail as I saddled him and arranged my pack behind the saddle. Getting into the saddle proved to be a challenge with my stiff and sore legs, but I managed it without making too much of a spectacle of myself. I tried to coax myself fully awake, chewing on some kajuk as I watched the Valkyrie leap into the sky. This day passed much the same as the one prior: the Valkyrie flying in a wedge above us, scouts shooting toward the horizon at intervals; our faehal’s fleet hooves churning up fine dust from the barren ground, wreathing us in a strange semblance of gritty fog; some songs rising up from the fierce column of warriors, and then long intervals of relative silence, our eyes searching the bare landscape for any threat.
