Rayadell backed away as Calanon sat up. She habitually checked the position of her wings to be sure they still created less of a hunch since her pack now rested on the ground, without showing through the front or bottom of her cloak. She watched him silently, only giving a short nod in response to his thanks. She cast his elk-friend a quick glance before Calanon spoke again.
	Her stomach growled in approval at the concept of breakfast. Rayadell’s eyes narrow fractionally in irritation, wanting to be on their way. But, alas, eating was a necessary inconvenience. Hoping, since she had not gotten the chance to hunt the night before and did not desire to use the few bits of jerky she kept with her so early on in their travels, the Carishes had added a few bits of dried meat into the food they had graciously given them, she went to the other side of the stone ring.
	“Breakfast sounds like a wise idea.” She began kicking dirt onto the few embers remaining of their fire still clinging to life, snuffing them out. “I believe I gave you the provisions the Carishes sent us with?”