Rowan had been up before the sun, climbing up into the boughs of a tree despite her injured arm to watch it rise. The sun was, in many ways, the fire that she knew the best. It spoke to her like candles and hearths did, but it seemed so far away that all she could hear were whispers that she couldn't make out the meaning of.
She saw Freya going up the hill and recalled that they were supposed to be training again today. She took one last look at the gray outline of light where the sun was just starting to peek out from beyond the horizon, and she hopped down from her perch to go join her new friend.
"Good morning, Freya," she said with too much energy to have just woken up. "I see you are up early. We are waiting on Axindr, yes?" While Freya had chosen the staff as her weapon, Rowan had felt the sword that had cut her call to her. Or maybe she just liked the irony of using a weapon that had drawn her blood. Either way, it was easier to use than any two handed weapon, at least until her other arm was more sufficiently healed. She could almost make a full fist again, but her grip was still fairly weak.
