Morning light slowly slipped through the small gaps in the fabric of Ezra's tent, thin golden lines passing through the tiny holes and landing directly on his face.
Ezra's eyes opened once.
He didn't move immediately.
Instead, he simply stared at the ceiling of the tent for a while, his gaze blank as his mind slowly caught up with the new day.
After a few seconds he covered his mouth and yawned quietly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before pushing himself up from the bed.
The cold air of the morning brushed against his skin as he stepped outside with a wooden cup filled with water.
Standing beside his tent, Ezra began brushing his teeth.
Even during a brutal trial like this one, Ezra never ignored hygiene.
In fact, it was one of the few things he refused to compromise on.
