Waiting

We're waiting for more entries in the lists of the missing from Frarn, Eystur and Lustrevik. Epecially from Lustrevik, where we have kin-houses which are checking their registers.

We won't be ending the gathering early. The decision is to keep on doing just what we would have done. We're more watchful, sure, and there's interest in how the ground-based operations on the other planets have run and what we could do against Sansha if they came here.

I should be used to it by now, the sense that I should be flying. There's almost resignation that each time I embark on something in the traditions that will take me away from the pod there will be some event that will have me feeling I ought to be back there.

This hurts. Purely physical pain that grows and grows and does not diminish until you're suspended above it, knowing it and focused by it. There are drugs for it, if I want them. I don't, or at least not yet. All that willpower training must be useful for something. And I'm feeling it and thinking of his touch. Wise? Perhaps not, but it makes the cut and burn seem something quite different.