They ran, Zacar not even hesitating or asking questions. Outside the cave, they emerged into a chilly spring day. Eleven warriors practiced with their swords, the mild spring sunshine shining down on their ridged heads. They moved in perfect formation. Four in a row with two in the last row and a space between the two warriors.
Viglar battled the strong sense to be somewhere else. Where there should be a space between the two warriors, a tiny six-year-old human girl, looking like a stick figure between the muscled Zyrgins, practiced in perfect synchronization with her companions. She held a wooden sword that was too big for her, but gamely made all the moves the warriors made.