The thick canvas of my tent bowed beneath the weight of the wind, snapping loudly with every gust and gale. It was dim and cold, the sun shining through the western wall of the tent as a distant, reddish circle, just moments from vanishing beneath the hills on the horizon. The camp had quieted for the night, the soldiers retired from their cookfires, and the watch was already pacing between the orderly rows of tents.
I sat on my cot with my tail in my lap, idly stroking it as I listened to Elinore, who stood across from me with her hands on her hips. She wasn't a large woman, but she dominated the small tent, towering over me by force of presence as much as height.
"No. I'm telling you that you can't do it. Even if your soul can cast fifth-level spells, your body won't handle it. If the sunpurge starts spreading again, I don't think it will stop."
