The Sunspire guard the night, oh keep the spirits strong

her mother had brought new life into the world, another chance. her father seemed as far away as the scars around her neck were faded, and so were the last memories of her siblings. she had been surprised to find, too, that anger faded - perhaps it was that her father was a pathetic, lying man, or perhaps it was that she could summon no caring for the man who had fathered and subsequently tried to kill her. 

she too was done wondering just what had gone so terribly wrong to shatter a family so completely, that had driven her brothers and herself so far away from what she felt sure her mother had imagined for them. wondering did little but antagonize her, and angst did little to benefit her. and so, whether it be through time or the fading of memories, her past became more and more separate from her, at times even seeming as though it belonged to someone else before snapping back into focus when a particularly vivid memory came crawling to the fore of her mind. 

and yet today was not a day for remembering, as she slipped nimbly around an outcrop that cut away at the little trail that had become well worn from her comings and goings. she enjoyed the climb, the predictable aches it left her with, the way it tugged at her endurance. she imagined one day she'd climb the other peaks in the range, head west or north or south - yet now was not the time to forsake her pack for travel. no, for now, she was content on this peak.