As Flake observed Oruin’s response to his actions, he felt underwhelmed. [i]This guy has given me absolutely no help[/i], he thought, frowning at the medic as he reached down for some supplies. [i]Then again, I expected as much from a prison medic,[/i] he continued, waiting as the medic prepared a bottle of water and a few healing wraps. Flake had no open wounds, as he well knew, so he figured the medic was pulling out bandages for something else.

When Flake briefly looked over towards Raine, he noticed that her expression had not changed in the least. Looking back at Oruin, Flake leaned in towards Oruin and, in a voice soft enough for an ant, whispered, “the next moon is three days from now. It’s bad luck this cycle,” with a quick, unassuming wink. With this, the bounty hunter stole the medic’s bottle of water and flicked out the stopper. He then drank a bit, splashed some water over his face to clean some of the blood from his jaws, and passed it back to Oruin. As he held out the bottle, he commented, “if you’re going to pray, pray for her heritage and for my blade.”

With all this said, Flake started to lie down on his bedding once more. As Oruin pointed out, it was his decision whether or not he would sleep, but the bounty hunter could not make a decision. He wanted to rest, but it would leave him unaware of his surroundings, a risk he wasn’t willing to take outside of his home-shack. [i]Although, I will need to sleep eventually…otherwise I’ll die of some stupid fault.[/i]