Ray'ven stood with her hands on her hips, staring up at the gate of her home with a new sense of purpose. Razmyr and his men were behind her, murmurs of excitement and anticipation that charged the air and left even her feeling high spirited.
She felt different. Freer than she had before. She should have felt at least some hesitation, but there was only the feeling of determination. Here she was, dressed down like a pirate, thick furs over her shoulders to stave off the cold winds of Frostdrift. Rubber soled boots that dug into the hardened snow beneath her feet and a sword strapped to her hip.
Puffing out a cloud of white, she turned towards the men and women that gathered, eyes washing over them as she assessed their numbers. They would need to play things smart. It was a good thing they had her.