Runa woke up stiff and sore more often than not these days. Vilkas had her training for nearly a month and she had yet to pick up more than a practice sword. She yawned, heaving herself out of bed and feeling the ache in her muscles. It hurt, but she was pleased, she could feel her body getting stronger, her muscles remembering blocks and strikes without her mind even having to tell them.

She lit a candle and headed out for her morning drills, already anticipating that she would be chided for sleeping too long.

"You're late again" barked Vilkas. Though the sun had barely cleared the horizon he punished her by making her run. To improve her endurance she had been running from the gates to the top of the steps of Dragonsreach every morning, multiple times. He made her do a dozen before the real training even began. Runa gritted her teeth and went to it, wondering how long this would go on before she was competent enough to begin the search for her sister in earnest.

The sun had already risen and she was just now getting out of bed. Vilkas felt a twinge of irritation at her lateness. He was restless, his beastblood called to him and he desired to feel the thrill of the hunt. Instead he was stuck at Jorrvaskr, inside the walls, training this whelp.

"You're late again" he barked. "Laps. Now. A dozen" he said, gritting his teeth in frustration.

Runa wasn't his only source of stress. He had yet to be of any help in Kodlak's search for a cure either. The old man had continued to seclude himself with his books, researching. He had even sent a request to the College of Winterhold for any information they had regarding the origins and curing of lycanthropy.

He watched Runa pass by on her way up the steps of Dragonsreach. As much as he hated to admit it, she was making progress. She had been weak at first, still malnourished and worn by grief from her ordeal. But in just a months time she was beginning to understand the basics, and her body had become much stronger. It was more than just the training regiment, her determination was a singular driving force, pushing her towards her goals.

She may see it as a useful source of motivation, but it disquieted Vilkas. He had found no signs of another captive in the ruined fort where he had found Runa. And yet her sister wasn't found with the bodies of her parents. Some instinct made him pause, he suspected she knew more than she let on, and it made him uneasy.

He pushed his doubts to the back of him mind for the moment, calling Runa back to the training yard.

"Now the real work begins," he growled.

Rubbing his eyes, Kodlak closed the book he had been leafing through. Thus far, his research had revealed very little information on a cure for the beastblood. He watched his candle slowly guttering out and wondered if the College of Winterhold would respond to his request. The Companions still commanded a certain amount of respect and reverence among the jarls and the nords of Skyrim, but the college mages were another animal altogether.

A knock at his door broke him out of his reverie.

"Enter." He said.

"A courier for you, Kodlak" Tilma said, handing him a package tied up in twine.

"Thank you Tilma, that will be all" he said, dismissing her.

He cut the twine, unwrapping the package to find an ancient and much worn tome and a note. Reading it, he smiled ruefully. Despite his lack of progress finding a cure, it would seem fortune hadn't failed him altogether. The package contained information on another fragment of Wuuthrad, the axe of Ysgramor. Though it had been shattered long ago, the fragments were considered artifacts deserving of immense reverence, and so Kodlak was seeking them still.

He smiled to himself again, it would seem several fragments resided in a tomb not far from the city. It seemed things were falling into place, he could only hope the search for the cure would yield results soon as well.

Everything hurt. Her muscles, her skin, her feet. Tilma had just filled the copper tub in her room and she was relishing the though of some time to relax. Runa carefully levered herself into the steaming tub, trying to not aggravate all of her sore spots. Vilkas had worked her particularly hard today, but her training was not at the forefront of her mind. Now that she thought on it, finding her sister seemed to present more of a problem than originally anticipated. Else hadn't been imprisoned with her, of that she was sure. But there was no sign of her in Solitude either. The only thing Runa could think was that Else must have escaped. Alone in a strange country, she would have sought help from anyone she came across, being young and naive didn't exactly lend itself to navigating that kind of situation.

Thinking back, she pictured her family's faces. Her mother, face careworn and hair greying, but with a kind and nurturing smile. Father, with his gravelly voice and bushy beard. And Else, she was less tall than Runa, but their faces showed kinship. Surely that would be an advantage during her search?

Stepping out of the tub, she began to dry off, mind still furiously at work. She was just mulling the idea that she might hire an artist to sketch a likeness of her sister when a tap on the door interrupted her train of thought.

"Yes, what is it?" she called absently, thinking Tilma had come back with some fresh towels.

Vilkas opened the door, a question on his lips only to see her standing there, back turned to him, completely naked.

"Tilma, what did you need?" she said, turning around. Her pleasant and relaxed expression turning to horror as she realized it was Vilkas, not Tilma who stood in her doorway.