They next day dawned brightly, but there was a strong wind blowing from the south and I had a feeling that the weather wouldn’t hold.
We gathered up our scattered gear and packed everything away into the saddlebags once more. I was ready to shift and move on, but Raneld once again donned his sword and set about practicing with it. That started another bit of irritation in me at the waste of time, that grew once more to an irrational rage.
We didn’t need to move on any particular schedule, and I knew it was absolutely stupid, but I sat and fumed as I watched him all the same. With nothing better to do, I found myself once more brooding on all the ways in which life had wronged me, working myself up again into a hateful froth against Raneld, my father, and myself. It would be even stupider
