The sun was a stranger. It climbed over the horizon not with the gentle, familiar glow of the Underworld's magical orbs, but with a blinding, relentless intensity that bleached the color from the world. The light was white and hot, and it made my head throb. It found every crack and crevice in the hunter's cabin, it illuminated the thick dust motes dancing in the air, and it exposed the full, miserable extent of our situation.
Shi was asleep by the dead fire, his massive body curled in on itself, a faint, pained grunt escaping his lips even in his rest. My healing had knitted the bone, but the deep trauma remained. It would take time, and food, and a peace we didn't have, for him to truly mend.
