The Scarecrow had been so enjoying the sunshine and fresh air and political conversation with Sangamon that he hadn't noticed how fast the time had passed. He was disappointed when his nurse arrived to take him to the next shift, but it wasn't like he could protest. Well, he could, but he had a feeling it wouldn't do any good. Giving his new friend's hand a farewell shake, he followed the girl in white. He took a last deep breath before walking into the building. He would rather have had the outdoors than food- that certainly was saying something.

The sterile air of the institution seemed to suck the good feelings right out of him. That nagging feeling in his legs came back as he walked alongside his nurse, keeping a hand on the wall for support. She showed him to a seat and retrieved some food for him, setting the tray on the table before walking away. He eyed the meal before him: the smell was less than appealing. Maybe being injured made food smell different. Using his knife to awkwardly cut a small square of whatever it was, he took a bite. It had an interesting taste to it- one of those that sort of stayed in his mouth long after he had swallowed the morsel.

He looked around for his nurse- no sign of her. The cafeteria was still fairly quiet. He set his fork on his tray and pulled his left leg onto the seat next to him. Rolling up his pant leg, he decided to see if he could take a quick look at how his leg was doing under the bandages without actually taking them off. Then again, he wasn't sure how to go about that, or how to take them off if he wanted.

[Needed: one girl who isn't unconscious in the middle of a necrit-filled hallway]