The drops of sweat trickled down Irene's exposed stomach.
Still at least an hour before the sun would rise, she stood a bit of distance away from the camp, with the sword in her hand, practicing her usual routine.
A morning training she only ever gave up if she happened to be busy fighting a real battle.
"HA!" she uttered a small cry when her body sprung forth, sending her blade to an imaginary target while her left shoulder swung to the back, balancing the strike out.
Irene squinted her eyes and took a deep breath… and she started her 'dance'.
Swing diagonally down from the right, horizontal swing back to the right, lunge with an advancing step, raised guard to ward off any counters, repeat.
Swing diagonally down from the right…
Bit by bit, Irene counted up to a hundred repetitions of the technique before casually and gracefully switching over to another set of moves.
