SHADOWCLAW — TRAINING ARENA, EXTERIOR
Dexmon Drakenfell was leaning against the wall outside the training arena with his arms crossed. He had absolutely not been standing there for forty-seven minutes and counted every one of them.
Hyran was beside him, looking grumpy because he had been asked to stand outside an arena for the sole purpose of opening a portal when the session ended. His professional bandwidth was being allocated to the magical equivalent of calling a carriage.
Inside the arena, Serena shifted for the twenty-first time that day.
The pain tore through Dex's matebond like a hot blade through his sternum. His jaw locked. His nose started bleeding. Again. Eleventh time for that symptom.
Six seconds. He counted every goddamn one.
