Strong gusts of wind were blowing in the afternoon of that day. It had been two days since the raid in Stokil Fortress. The camping of the Guardians was already assembled, though they had many details to take care of and a lot of things to organize.
Ares opened his eyelids slowly as he heard the canvas of the tent he was inside trembling due to the wind. He was somewhat startled but didn't last too long to realize that he wasn't on the battlefield anymore but in a safer place.
He looked to the sides, then to his own hands. The red-haired boy noticed that his wrists were very achy. They got wrapped tightly with bandages, so they would stay still in the same place. Ares' shoulder also got bandaged.