Early the next morning, Isaiah's eyes flickered open of their own accord. As his sleep had lightened he'd become more aware of the pain until he could no longer escape into dreams. Not only that, but now he was hungry and thirsty as well. Looking around, the fair-haired Assassin could not see his attendant and friend, though he hadn't expected to. Surely though he could go get his own refreshments.<br/><br/>With a groan and a hiss of pain, Isaiah managed to sit up in bed. After that, getting up was pretty easy. He found that standing was a bit difficult. Some of the skin over his abdomen had been injured, so it hurt when he used those muscles, and they were essential to balance and walking. He didn't get back in bed, of course. Isaiah was just stubborn that way. He determinedly made his way out the door and down the stairs, then towards their little kitchen.<br/><br/>The main room was a mess: tables and chairs lay tipped over, broken and spilled beer mugs lay about, as well as some of the people who'd been drinking from them. There were always a few Assassins who couldn't take anything seriously. Isaiah was the same, but at least he avoided alcohol.<br/><br/>After a moment, Isaiah emerged from the kitchen with a glass of water and a hunk of bread. He took his seat at an upright table and began his little feast. Meanwhile, Fredrick slept heavily after a rather long night.