One limping step after another, Hermi made her way back to the rock alcove. Beside her, Commander Otho looked as sturdy as ever, his stride effortless against the stone.
Watching him stirred a pang of shame in her chest. She felt humiliated by how physically lacking she was, compared to a man who was likely forty years her senior, if not more.
As they reached the encampment, the atmosphere was far more boisterous than Hermi had expected. Rather than gathering in separate clusters around smaller squad fires, the archers had congregated around a massive bonfire in the center of the vast stone floor.
Over the roaring flames, a makeshift rotisserie had been established using thick iron pikes. An entire giant of a deer was skewered above the heat, its skin turning a deep, glistening brown.
