Two days of walking. One argument about whether my hair was going to set Sophie's sleeping roll on fire. She said it didn't matter. I'm fairly certain she was lying, based on the way she repositioned her bedding six inches further from mine before she thought I was asleep.
We arrive at the Academy gates on the third morning looking like exactly what we are.
Two girls. No money. No letters of recommendation. No pack affiliation, no sponsor, no luggage worth the name. Sophie's boots have given her blisters on both heels that she has refused to mention once, which means they are bad enough that mentioning them would constitute complaining, and Sophie does not complain. I've been managing the fire in transit by sleeping with my hair wrapped in damp cloth and banking everything down to the lo
