The following night, Fynn came back from battle heavier than he had since we had been here. According to the others, they won again, but Fynn was clearly already growing weary. Maybe he just needed to get back into the swing of going to battle every day, or maybe something deeper was going on, but he didn't say much at all today.
Ronan made some sort of rice dish that filled me up quickly, and Fynn went to bed without more than a few words to anyone. I felt uneasy at his demeanor, but he was asleep by the time I finished my dinner, so I didn't have the chance to talk with him.
Just after sunset, there was a bird singing outside the tent. A huge bird with an intricately braided beard and tattoos all the way up his arms and neck.
I did my best to whistle back a similar tune, but it was a
