Dawn made everything look more practical than it had in the dark.
The oath, the fire, the arrows on the wall, Rowan's watching silence beyond the tree line, all of it seemed less mythic in the grey light and therefore, in some ways, more dangerous. Night allowed wolves to dress obsession up as omen. Morning turned it back into structure. There were still walls. There were still routes. There was still a woman outside Grimridge who wanted Sable taken north and kept alive long enough to be broken.
And there was still work to do before the first real snow.
Sable woke before Cassian moved.
