Tutaminis Manor, Grounds
They were on their way. Slowly, but surely, of course, but Kara was proud of the strides she’d been making as the acting leader of the Order. They’d recruited new blood, established jobs for healers, runners, groundskeepers, tutors, cooks, for some of the members and refugees who had taken up residence at the safehouse. She felt they had their feet firmly planted on the ground again and for the first time in years, she could say they were up and running. Kara would never take credit for doing anything on her own because that was completely false. She had help in re-establishing this as a more reputable organization, pulling it out of the ashes once more, from several friends and even unlikely allies, like the Lucky 7 who had been brought to them by her step-father…
…that was an unusual alliance, indeed. About a week ago, she and Jace Bryden, the alpha of the pack, had come to somewhat of a compromise. He’d unlocked something in her she never felt “allowed” to do since she’d come around, and even less so when she vied for the leadership role with the Order. She was bound by these what-ifs and what-not-to-do’s and Jace, in his own charming and not so subtle way, that she wasn’t particularly bound to anything if she wanted to be a good leader. Still, she wanted to remain as fair and just as possible but he made her realize that sometimes, force was necessary. Kara knew she was far from celebrating any major breakthroughs with her current role, but the small victories that were sprinkled throughout, still merited some sort of kudos.
It was early yet, for most of the inhabitants of the safe house, but Kara had already been awake for three hours. She’d spent a lot of these nights sleepless, and when she finally did sleep it was for maybe two or three hours at a time and then a lot of lonely, restless hours staring at the walls or ceiling. When she couldn’t sleep she liked to head outside to the grounds, where there were targets she’d throw her daggers to or a few spells if she really wanted some practice. That’s where she was headed now, ready to let the blades fly. Holding the knife Stana had charged her with, the blade that belonged to that Alpha Jace Bryden, made her really miss the weight of that forged Damascus steel in her hands, the curved blades that cut clean and landed with such a beautiful precision.
Right on target, she grinned. She could have spelled them to return them to hand quickly but she didn’t feel like using magic now. Old school training with her physical weapons was quite therapeutic. As she walked over to fetch the blades from each straw and cloth target, Kara could hear voices coming from around the corner.