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[highlands_sword]

Sunlight streamed in through their window, made brighter as it reflected off pristine snow. Culgan didn’t particularly care about that at the moment, he was writing in the journal Seed had teased him about once

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[1ikethewolf]

Seed was watching from the doorway, silent, taking in the tense line of Culgan's shoulders as his quill scratched against the paper. Had it been by candlelight, it would have reminded Seed of long wintry nights spent in his friend's tent, lulled to sleep by the soothing sound of writing, by the cloying weariness of a day spent pacing, waiting, dragging his armor through snow and mud and a mounting sense of frustration

[highlands_sword]

Being here had done more than just slowly tear at his world. It had also dulled his battle senses, a fact which was both good and bad. He was completely unaware that Seed was anywhere nearby, watching him, until that strong hand rested on his shoulder.

To his credit, he didn’t start. Culgan turned his head to look at the red head, not quite quick enough with his mask to hide the discontent he was feeling right then. Even so, his lips curved in a slight smile. “You’re forgiven.”

Amazing what difference that small statement made… he felt that wriggling feeling of helplessness, of self-disgust, retreat.

[1ikethewolf]

A grin slowly spread on Seed's face, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Now that that's settled..."

He thumped Culgan on the back playfully.

"Why don't you go pick up that sword or yours and come spar with me, you didn't even notice me creeping up on you! Are you getting decrepit before your time, old friend?"