Dawn came slowly, creeping through the forest canopy in shades of grey that gradually warmed to pale gold.
Alaric yawned. His jaw cracked audibly.
He pushed himself up from where he'd been slumped against the log and stood.
And stretched arms above his head, then side to side, working stiffness from muscles that had spent the night in uncomfortable position.
Then dropped into push-up position.
Started counting silently.
One. Two. Three. His wounded shoulder screamed.
He ignored it.
Four. Five. Six.
Henry emerged from his tent, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Stopped when he saw Alaric.
"You're... exercising?" His tone carried disbelief. "After last night?"
Alaric didn't respond. Just kept going.
Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.
Moved to squats. Then core exercises. Working through routine designed to assess damage, to test his body's current capabilities.
Shoulder's compromised. Side wound restricts rotation. But everything still functions. Good.
