<span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-indent:1em;">Brynn woke up later than usual for her, the restless night doing her no favours, her black hair was unbraided and flipped over to the wrong side. She sighed as she exited the tent and stretched, forcing back a yawn. She was wearing a simple grey undertunic and leggings while she completed some of her morning chores, flipping her hair to the correct side before she began braiding it as she walked.</div></span>.<br/><br/><span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-indent:1em;">Ragnar roamed the camp sluggishly, heading towards the breakfast line, lured by the enchanting smell of cooked bacon. Ragnar had gotten the shortest end of the stick, being stuck with the last two shifts, back to back. Fortunately, he was already suited up and ready to go; however, he was fighting with himself trying to keep himself awake.</div></span>