The delicious smell of cooked food drifted in through the gaps in the stone wall, and Rey's stomach grumbled as she woke. She sat up, stretching the stiffness from her neck and back. For the first time since leaving Jakku, she thought almost longingly of her home there—at least her old hammock was more comfortable than the damp stone platform she was sitting on now, and her thin clothing was far more suited to the desert heat than this bone-chilling cold.
She opened the door a crack and peeked outside. Luke was sitting in front of the fire, his back to her. Caught on a light morning breeze, the smell of food hit Rey once more, drowning out any nervousness she might have otherwise felt about approaching Luke again.
"Whatever that is, it smells amazing," she said, coming over and sitting down across from him. Portions of a large fish lay spread out on a thin, flat stone directly over the fire, crackling in a way that made Rey's mouth water.
Luke glanced up from the smaller stone he was using as a plate. "You're wasting your time," he said gruffly, but after a moment slid a second stone plate across to her.
She snatched it up and reached over to pull some of the fish off the fire, wincing at the heat on her bare fingers. She didn't even wait for it to cool before stuffing it in her mouth, relishing the sharp, salty taste. This was so much better than the bland rations kit she'd brought with her from the Falcon.
As Rey reached over for a second helping, she noticed a flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye—a squat, pudgy, bird-like creature was hopping toward them along the edge of the cliff. Rey had seen similar creatures from a distance around the island, but never this close. The creature hopped over to Luke, staring up at him with enormous round eyes.
"What are they?" Rey asked, unable to resist a smile. "They're cute."
The creature squawked expectantly, and Luke nudged it gently aside with his boot. "They're annoying," he said, his eyes never leaving his plate. "The caretakers call them porgs."
Apparently undeterred by Luke's rejection, the porg moved closer again, settling in next to his foot with a comfortable familiarity. This time Luke seemed content to ignore it.
Rey finished eating and set her plate down on the ledge beside her. She thought about bringing up the Resistance again, telling Luke how much they needed him, but she doubted it would do any good. Maybe he just needed more time—to process all of this, and to learn to trust her. And maybe she could use that time to better understand him.
"Thanks for breakfast," she said, sliding the plate closer to him and standing up. Luke didn't respond, and the porg, still nestled up against the side of Luke's boot, ignored her while she walked back up to her hut.
As she started to close the door behind her, Rey heard a cheerful squawk from near the fire, and turned to see Luke leaning down with a small piece of fish in his gloved right hand. The porg snatched the fish from him, gulping it down hungrily before flapping right up into Luke's lap. Luke shook his head in seeming exasperation, but he didn't shoo the porg away, and Rey could swear she heard him chuckle softly. After a moment he reached up and stroked a finger gently down the back of the porg's head, prompting a pleased-sounding twitter. A few feet away, two more porgs peeked out from behind a rock and hop-flapped their way over to Luke, no doubt hoping to receive the same treatment.
Rey watched with a smile as he tore off a bit of fish for each bird, his hand steady as they plucked it from his fingers. Perhaps there was still hope for the Resistance after all.