The Fallout - Part 2

He still felt it, those effects of battle. That churning fire in his heart, demanded more from him, giving him the security that he needed to dare to reach so high. Even as he lay next to Penelope, his heart gradually revved that thudding rhythm, as the sleep faded away, replaced by true consciousness.

Now he could see a tent above his head. An odd thing, that was – he'd thought all those tents had burned down with the mage Francis – or whoever that man claiming to be Francis was.

They were laid on furs too, from the feeling of comfort at Vol's back. Where had they managed to get those? Vol's own supplies had been with the wagon, for the most part. Everything aside from his weapons and his coin, he'd kept there, out of convenience.

Penelope too didn't seem to be in nearly as poor a state as she had been when he'd found her in the forest. The mud and the blood were gone, washed away, and the clothes that she wore were clean ones.