His instincts told him it was that silent time just prior to dawn and very soon—probably in just minutes—the birds would give their first chirrups and slashes would appear across the sky as morning would begin yawning and stretching from her slumber. He tiptoed around the wagon he shared with his brothers and put his boots on outside to avoid disturbing the lightly snoring pair. Sitting on the step of the wagon, Griff shivered from the chill. It was too early to expect any keraff to be brewing anywhere soon and after Tess’s home-dried phelan tea, he knew it would never match up anyway. He was hungry, too. But that was normal. Griff was always famished and had learned not to dwell on it. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. All he knew was that he couldn’t sleep, and he couldn’t be still either. It was too dark to begin work but he needed something to distract him. The truth was Griff wanted to think but he was too frightened about where his thinking time might take him. After last night’s conversation with Master Tyren he now realised that his situation was dangerous.
