To the Grey Paths: Penny
The morning didn’t come with a sunrise. It came with a gradual thinning of the shadows that clung to the stone walls of the Keep. I woke before Soren knocked, my internal clock still tuned to the frantic rhythm of the city, though the silence that greeted me was far deeper than anything I’d ever felt in Chicago. I dressed quickly, my movements practiced and efficient. I piled on the forest-green wool tunic and laced my boots tight. My reflection in the small, silvered mirror on the washstand was almost unrecognizable. A year ago I had looked utterly and completely human. Now, the woman looking back at me had sharper lines to her face, her lavender eyes stood out like brushes against pale skin. I looked like someone who had survived a war, even if I’d only been in one for a few days. I
- Writer
