Link tossed a coin to the innkeeper with a grateful nod and a wave, then walked outside to meet Wren. They didn’t usually pay for a room, as they usually just camped wherever they ended up by nightfall, but it was clear storms were heading their way. Wren was petting her horse, Azriel, her brows furrowed slightly as she looked toward the sky.

Wren’s shoulder-length chestnut hair was wild from the humidity in the air making strands stick out all over her head. Her hazel eyes seemed bright, even in the dim light from the overcast day.