“How ya sleep, princess?” asked Rika, standing over Aya. Aya picked herself up off the floor. “Fine, thanks.” She had not gotten much rest. Thoughts of Selene made sleep impossible, but she was not about to tell that to anyone. Rika tossed a bowl at her. Aya caught it, eyeing the white gunk inside the bowl suspiciously. “What is this?” Rika rolled her eyes. “Why, food, of course. What else?” She stomped away, muttering to herself. Aya only managed to hear the words “useless” and “pathetic.” “Morning,” said Sheridan, stuffing a spoonful of food into his mouth. He held a bowl in his hands. “This oatmeal is great, isn’t it? They put in some type of syrup that only grows on these trees. Maybe they’ll give me the recipe.” “Um, yeah.” Aya took a look around the camp. Rika was strapping a bow and quiver to her back.
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