The night passed in the blink of the eye.
The darkness inside the Shamanic Grove was just beginning to thin, turning from pitch-black to a cool, velvety twilight, when Sol's eyes flicked open.
His internal body clock… honed through the recent days of relentless discipline and survival… pulled him out of sleep at the exact same hour every morning, long before the sun had even hinted at breaking over the eastern ridges of the Great Orrath.
A low, involuntary groan rumbled in his throat as his senses slowly returned to him. His body felt heavy, thoroughly satisfied, and thoroughly drained.
He lay still for a moment, feeling the heavy, luxurious warmth of the furs draped over his body.
Beside him, High Shaman Zephyra was fast asleep, her breathing coming in slow, peaceful, and rhythmic pulls.
