It's no longer really summer; there's a certain tang in the air, a slight hint of the cold left to come -- but that doesn't keep Agnieszka Kaczmarek from the list field in the morning to have her way with the new boys who've set their sights on beating her; one by one, they raise their steel and one by one, they go away, grumbling about her speed.
She's made a miraculous recovery, of course -- unlike the last time; and she has no real explanation for it, either. There's no explanation why skin and muscle knit themselves together so fast; no explanation aside from "Alastir," whispered only to a very select few. The rest? They get trounced, until she calls a halt and goes searching for water.