Ilion raised an eyebrow.  Five hours was more than enough?  After what must have been a long chase, then a disastrous crash, injury, hours of walking and working… five hours was enough?  That was some stamina.  It probably came with the lifestyle Urudal had with his people, before he took to the darkness of space.<br/><br/>Ilion looked down at the wounded leg on display.  It didn’t look terrible, but it probably would’ve looked better if the big idiot would keep his weight off and stop overworking it.<br/><br/>“Sure,” he accepted, his mouth already watering at the smell of fresh meat.  He did so love fresh,<i>real</i>food, but it was hard to come by on long journeys in space, particularly the meat.  Even when he raided a port or something where they had something that passed for fresh, it wasn’t the same as the meals he’d had back on Renghana where the meat was hunted for and prepared that day.<br/><br/>He had a moment of nostalgia where his heart felt like it bottomed out.  It wasn’t that he missed being there all that much, but he’d stayed close to his mother whenever possible.  Her loss, while not recent, sometimes crept back in and weighed on him.  It was the thought that he might’ve been able to save her from some of her torment had he been able to get her off that world.  They could’ve ran together for as long as they wanted, or found a new home to settle into, maybe on a world similar to this one.  He might have had to learn some new things, turn his abilities with weapons into hunting skills, that sort of thing… but he’d have done what was necessary to make her happy.<br/><br/>His pale eyes moved to catch Urudal’s, a moment of disconnect there as he struggled to remember what the larger man had just said.  Something about fixing the ship.<br/><br/>“Yeah.  Sounds good,” he said.  “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I think we’ll be able to get back in the air.  Might be a long, stuffy flight back toward civilization, though.  Just depends on how our tech works patched together.”