A black haired swordswoman sought out a new secluded spot near the edge of the encampment. It hadn't felt right to her to ask her cousin to leave while he was stuck in his own introspections. She eventually found a cluster of trees that offered some privacy.
With movements that showed a combination of careful choice and outward recklessness developed through being accustomed to bedding down anywhere, she laid out her bedroll and settled in on the forest floor. Her sword was within easy reach and the sky was so clear that the thought of any rain felt foreign.
The talks with the Coiled Serpent members and with Navuill weighed on her as she sought rest, but it was an absence beside her that kept her mind running. Qatrand forcefully closed her eyes, but it was not long before her hand drifted across her chest. She focused on the faint connection the fragment enabled with her wife, even in separation.
