The sun showered bundles of red light through the window, and onto his face. Red worms squirmed under his eyelids when he woke up, and when he opened his eyes, the light made them. He sat up and rubbed his face and checked his back. A nail on the floor had left a mark over his, and Diego rubbed over it, trying to make it go away.
The room was still damp from the morning dew, and the floor was cold. He stood up and shook his arms and legs, to send blood and heat back to them. His throat felt parched, and Diego went to the table at the corner of the room, took the kettle filled with water, and drank from it. A thin blade of glassy liquid flowed from the tip of the vessel, quenching his thirst and filling his cells.
He looked at the two lying over the beds; Jeremiah had his eyes open and then, he sat up on the edge of his bed. Nibur was snoring, and his body covered only half of the bed.
"Wake up," Jeremiah turned to the dwarf and shouted. "We've got work to do."
