The Morning

He relaxed his stiffened muscles slowly, relishing the release of tension, the tingling awakening of his muscles, the slow calm that roused his drowsy, stiff body as the process vitalized him. He was supple; the willow bending in the wind. His mind stilled, the rift was at his command, but he resisted the urge to seize it. He leaned against a stack of crates adjacent to his tent, taking in the scents of breakfast and smoke drifting in darkness. Firelight flickered, illuminating his pursed lips. Asleep after midnight, he was up before dawn. It promised to be another long day.