True to Drake's prediction, Falcon's blisters are indeed gone overnight. The soreness of his feet however, is not. They say you can't have everything, he thinks as he drags himself back to lucidity. He'd slept deeper than he'd expected and for the first time in weeks he hadn't been troubled by dreams. Then again, this was probably the place where the dreams were most likely to be reality.
Nudging Life awake, Falcon turns to Drake - the dragon already having awoken.
"Where do we head now?" he says. "I didn't bring any food, so that's out of the question for now at least."
"I wouldn't say so." says Drake, procuring what looks like a strip of dried meat from a pocket and tossing it to Falcon. "Here's your breakfast."
Falcon sniffs it suspicously, it smell distinctly fishy. "What is... never mind. I don't even want to know." he says, closing his eyes and taking a bite of the fish-meat.
It tastes surprsingly good, if a little tough. A memory flashes to the surface, Falcon and Dane as young boys, fishing in the river. Falcon had asked what a boot would taste like if they fished one up. "If you concentrate hard enough," Dane had said, "It'd probably taste like beef." "But what if you don't concentrate?" Falcon had asked. Dane had rolled his eyes, "Then it would taste like boot leather stupid!" Falcon had promptly thrown Dane in the river, and the ensuing water fight had resulted in both boys returning home sopping wet, much to the irritation of their foster mother.
Snickering at the memory, Falcon swallows the last of the meat. Whatever it is, it appears to be all they have. He hopes Drake knows how to ration food effectively, otherwise they could be in some hot water.
"Right," he says. "Let's move!"