Totoka River table for two

Tomorrow.

Lestan slumped down to the earth, as though sleep would carry him away on a whim. Swordfish watched him, mouth agape in surprise. They wouldn’t rest in this place, not well enough to trek across the bridge when morning came. The grounds where they stood were open to the elements and to approaching passersby.

Further back, Swordfish spotted a place near the rocks and trees that would block the wind. If he could get the poor fool to rise again, it might serve them well for a night.

C’mon, the boy grunted, shouldering Lestan’s ragged frame. Over there. Then yer good to rest.

Frustration spiked again. If he had to, Swordfish would drag Lestan by his nape.