Scar ignored his food as he walked into his room. He still felt miserable. The Ishbalan had rested throughout the day, which had helped both his exhaustion and his lingering sickness. But bed still seemed like the most inviting option right now. He ignored his food, climbing into bed and closing his weary eyes.

Perhaps tonight he could actually get something done. What, he wasn't sure. But the small knives from the other night should be in his closet. They would have to be good enough, as he didn't have anyone to venture out with. He frowned, rolling over onto his side and hoping to God that Johnny didn't walk in anytime soon. He didn't feel like dealing with the man.