Éliane had been surprised to see that their itinerant moogle had made it out physically unscathed despite the violent melee, although she doubted the same was for his fur and mental state. Well, she was sure the little man would be fine after a few days, a brush, and some drink, no biggie. More importantly, she and Galahad had been able to recover the chocobos—by some miracle, they too had been unharmed, and hadn’t been scattered to the point of loss.
Like any sensible party, they made camp some ways away from the fight. To her annoyance, a campfire was not an option; there would be no easy hot brews of coffee for her, a fact made all the worse since she expected to take watch for the night. Where was that black mage that could easily solve that issue for her? In fact… where had he been during the entire battle?
Nonetheless, the respite was welcome. A good meal after going hunting was made all the better by the way Lord Leonhardt had their provisioning arranged, and the food that was available in the wagon was nearly fit for a lesser feast, even if Éliane still found the quality of the bread wanting.
Even if there were only so many ways to bake hard tack.
After tearing into the food, she had to stare longingly at the coffee beans she had in her pouch, before deciding to just pop some in her mouth.
“Watches? It’s all the same to me,” she shrugged. “I’ll take whatever.”