The training ground at dawn.
The same packed earth, the same tree line, the same morning light at the specific angle that belonged only to this particular hour, arriving through the forest edge at the slant that turned the ground a particular shade of grey-gold before the full day established itself.
I had stood here on my second morning at Ironpeak, before I had known anything yet, and run the forms beside Bren while Caden watched from the window above. I had stood here many mornings since, learning the specific vocabulary of this ground, the way the packed earth felt underfoot, the particular quality of attention the pack brought to this hour.
I stood here now with Sera in the front carrier, the soft weight of her pressed against my chest, her face turned slightly sideways in the slee
