Gracis is already up when the Amazons begin to rise, sitting outside the house he secured permission to sleep in last night, a large net in his lap. It was used to snare boars and larger prey by the hunters, and recently it had been badly torn turning a hunt. He works, quietly knotting new rope and weaving it together with the old to patch the holes and snares for its owner.<br/><br/>Somewhere, he smells someone - probably another slave - cooking breakfast, and his stomach growls.