Selanil slept away from the fire, more comfortable with the breeze blowing through his hair and across his scarred face. After the tight confines of the chamber below ground, he was happy to smell the fresh night air and other assorted scents of life. His mind and body weary, he rested comfortably, nearly outside the house, but close enough to be within earshot of his companions in case of trouble.
In the morning, he took down his dry clothes, shook them out and dressed. His bow slung across his back and the spear firmly in his right hand, he rejoined the group, waiting to see what the others had planned.