Sable's POV
I woke up stiff on a bedroll that smelled like someone else's sweat, sunlight cutting through a gap in the tent flap right across my eyes. For a second I forgot where I was. Then my wrist ached where the old man had grabbed it, and everything came rushing back.
Ivy was already outside when I crawled out, sharpening a knife against a whetstone like it was the most normal thing in the world to do before breakfast.
"Sleep okay?" she asked, not looking up.
"Not really."
"Yeah, the first night's rough for everybody." She slid the knife into a sheath at her hip and stood, brushing dirt off her knees. "Come on. I figured I'd show you around before people start staring at you like you're some kind of exhibit."
"They already stare."
"Fair. Maybe this'll cut down on it a little."
