[In that time Irvine has slumped deeper into the chair, his hat over his face and Exeter on his lap. Even asleep, he holds it ready. In Galbadia, a soldier's best friend is either his sword or his gun.

[The kick wakes him easily and he props up the hat with a thumb to the brim, looking blearily out at Zell.]

Man, if ten minutes is all you need, I'm going to have to give you some pointers before you make your move on that pretty pig-tailed librarian.

[Please tell him it was more than ten minutes. He's almost willing to give up ... well, maybe his left arm ... for a bed. He stifles a yawn and gets unwillingly to his feet, shoving back the hat, Exeter resting on his shoulder.]

Where are we headed?