Brenna sat beside him. "What are you thinking of?"
"Nothing."
"Doesn't look like nothing." Brenna poked him.
"Father. My life before." Ciaran sighed, too tired to be annoyed.
Brenna gazed into the flames; they were the same color as her eyes. "Do not forget him, but set him aside if you want to survive what comes."
"It's winter. The Hammer of Thor is trapped in the cold of the North. You said so yourself."
"I wasn't speaking of them. You have work to do."
This time Ciaran could summon some annoyance. "You already trained me. Why am I repeating myself?"
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