Greeting the Rising Sun...

Another rising sun, and again Kiril is practicing at the edge of the patrolled area of the now cleared monastery. And again the haunting song accompanies his lethal dance of blade and quick and graceful movement. 

After awhile, he stops, the sweat rolling down his chest and back giving evidence to the toll his morning exercises take on him, bending over, he scoops up handfuls of sand to use to absorb and scour the sweat from him.

He puts his blade in its scabbard and then folds easily into a cross-legged sitting position on the sand and contemplates his present circumstances.

Musing lowly to the wind, he says, "Is this what my life is to be? Just killing? I know I'm good at it, but I can't believe that with all that Jess taught me, the use of my blade or bow is of paramount importance. But there isn't any way to reason with Gnolls, except through might."

Shaking his head ruefully, he rises with a smooth surge of strength, reaches out for his shirt and armor. Holding them in his arms, Kiril starts back to the monastery.

"I suppose it's time to check on the others," he thinks to himself, then aloud, "Especially Spring, she was really attached to her donkey. I feel for her." And a sad smile plays its self out on his face.

As he enters the courtyard, still carrying his jerkin and armor, Kiril notices that both Valeros and Penladan are gone. No doubt eating breakfast.

Kiril himself is a light eater, too much time spent in the company of a Elf. They don't seem to need as much food as the average Human, or at least Jessaril didn't. Between her and living off the land, which has very little to give, he has trained himself to eat sparingly, but its enough.

He walks over to his pack by his bedroll, drops his gear in a neat pile, gets a clean shirt out of his pack, and looks around again.

Spying Spring by her bedroll, he looks for her new animal familiar. The hawk he noticed eating out of her hand this morning while she watched him at his practice.

"There it is," he thinks to himself as his keen eyes see it perched above her, on the wall, watching over her. Jess had a familiar too, but in her case it was a bit more exotic than a hawk. But then Jess was pretty exotic herself.

Damn Pseudodragon had a wicked sense of humor though. Kiril starts grinning as he remembers one prank that Yithig pulled on his father. He kept casting an annoying illusion of a gnat that Dad would just catch a glimpse of. Drove him crazy for over an hour until he figured out what was going on. Of course, no buzzing sound should have alerted him that something wasn't quite right. And if Yithig hadn't started chortling at my poor father's annoyance, Dad might still be trying to kill the gnat.

Anyway, back to why he was here. He walks over and stops a few feet from her.

"Good Morning Spring, How are you doing today? I know losing your friend, Oatty, was hard for you. If you would like to talk, I am a really good listener." 

It isn't until now that he realizes that he is still holding his shirt, never having gotten around to putting it on. 'Oops, manners need brushing up on.'

o0o