Melville stretched his arms, opened his eyes lazily. He could feel the sun on his back, streaming in between the hole in the awning. He could feel the morning air, tainted by the smell of the slums, and distantly, the sound of a world waking up. "I heard ya loud and clear, kid," he said to the Meji as he started to stand up. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Avery said, somewhat reluctantly.
Melville was feeling better than he'd thought possible after a good night rest. All his wounds didn't feel much like wounds anymore. He stood straight, or as straight as a marsupial like him could go, and looked out to the streets, or what passed as streets around here. Just a block away a Taigra was crashing right through a shanty house, his mouth frothing.
"Another crazy morning in the Slums," he said absent-mindedly. "Let's get you two out of here."