"I've always enjoyed breakfast at any time of day, myself. If not, then I'm not particular." Cliff fans the fire carefully when the wind dies, and shields it when the wind kicks up. Frouline return and lays her last bundle on the pile. Cliff looks at her and considers something. He separates a portion of the fuel and looks at Frouline. "Frouline, could you produce a mist for me?" The pokemon looks uncertain for a moment before giving it a shot. At first it's just a small stream of water, but with a little bit of effort, the stream slowly picks up pressure and changes shape. "Hmm... Try adding breath instead of pressure." Frouline stops and looks at him, thinking for a second about what she's doing and then trying it out. The stream sputters and struggles, with mild success but nothing that could really be called a mist. "Almost..." After a little bit, Frouline seems a little tuckered from the extra effort, and Cliff smiles. "That's alright. You can rest."

Cliff turns back to the fire, looking up at Rowan. "Just hurry up, before we need more wood."