[center][h1][color=lightblue]丂刀のW 丂ｱﾑ尺尺のW[/color][/h1][/center]

Not much happened that night.  Merely a time to rest.  A time to reflect.  A time to pray.  Even at the ends of the world, the monk still felt he had to pray.  There still had to be something worth giving thanks.  Praying towards.  He knew the gods got stronger through prayer, and there weren't many left who prayed.  His faith was but a drop in a dry sea, but a mountain can be built by pebbles.  He accepted Fergus' candles and he big his companions a good night.  He slept unsoundly, but he slept.

[hr]

The next morning, he was happy with his oat gruel, strawberries, his tea.  The simple things.  He woke up with the pain at his shoulder and his hip.  Its been bothering him every day, particularly when he gets up at dawn.  He rubs his shoulder, rotates it to work the kinks out before getting his hair tied in a pin.  He took advantage of the water bath, merely dumping the water on his head and then giving himself the merest sponge bath to himself merely to feel fresh.  When he was ready he came down stairs and settled in, strumming his Sanxian to pass the time until his companions awoke.  

Fergus was first, followed later by Cillia.  Regardless, he'd gave each a proper.  [color=lightblue]"Good morning.  Hope you slept as well as I did.  Been forever since I dreamed of music like that."[/color]  He lied, but he wanted to encourage them.

Master Hsu was apparently there and when it was called, the monk stood.  [color=lightblue]"The name sounds familiar..."[/color]  Possibly another immaculate from back in the day, possibly.  He got up following Fergus out.  [color=lightblue]"I just hope we have enough time."[/color]  He implored before stepping out with the patrician out into the street to meet the Master.