His night had been a good one. An uneventful day running the mail about town, followed by packing up some cargo, and finally cobbling together a good meal. However, unable to afford a room after all was said and done, Sefton had decided the weather was nice enough to pick a place and set down for the night.

Now, he was sitting against the building in a somewhat soft patch of worn-out sidewalk, fast asleep. His dreams were muddled as always, and he didn't expect he'd wake up until sunrise. Until someone tripped over an outstretched leg and jostled him awake.

His first reaction was a single shot of panic as he immediately brought his leg up to his chest—followed by sympathy for the boy he now saw sprawled out on the ground, and the relieving realization that the boy had only tripped over his lower leg. He sighed to himself, and peered a little closer. "Are you all right?"