The next day, the morning sunlight shone into the cave entrance, highlighting tiny dust motes floating in the air.
Owen woke up on the stone bed, his head splitting with pain, unable to regain his senses for a long while. He reached up to touch the back of his neck; that spot was still aching and sore.
"If you're awake, get up and eat breakfast." Rowan, who was sitting by the fire, spoke up, pulling the groggy Owen back to reality.
The scent of roasted meat had already spread throughout the cave.
"You tricked me." Owen sat up, his voice carrying a rare hint of grievance.
"Tricked you about what? Are you dreaming?" He tasted a small piece of today's breakfast; the taste was average, not as delicious as what Owen cooked, but enough to fill the stomach.
Owen sprang up, his eyes looking at Rowan full of accusation, as if looking at a scumbag who, after successfully wooing someone, immediately spoke words of boredom and wiped his hands clean of responsibility.
