Radar crossed the compound with a nagging feeling in his stomach. He didn't have to look back to know that Frank had thrown the cap to the ground and stormed off. "I must just be hungry," he told Bantelhopp, who was questioning him about the feeling. "I'll bet everybody else is, too."

"Everybody else is what?" Said a voice that in no way belonged to the falcon-headed dragon on his head.

Radar turned around, grinning an affable grin at the wounded soldier in the wheelchair who was being wheeled over to the mess tent.

"Hungry. I was just talking about all the people headed over to breakfast." He gestured to all the other people - a sum total of one drowsy-looking man hobbling across the pounded dirt of the compound. "Is that where you're going?"

The kid shook his head as Radar fell into line beside the rolling chair. "They fed us earlier. I'm going to the mass."

"Oh!" Radar commented, "Well, it's a good thing that's where you're going, because that's where you're headed."

The boy looked confused for a moment, and opened his mouth to ask a question further, but before he did, his face just broke into a smile and he laughed at the Pooka's words, doing much for Radar's morale and relieving that ooky feeling in the pit of his stomach.

When the laughter died down, he explained, simply and earnestly, "I promised Mom I'd go to church when I could, over here."

Radar nodded in a mockingly sage manner, "Oh, yeah, well, you gotta listen to your ma. You should get wounded more often, huh?" Another patch of giggles from the weary-looking kid. "Say hi to her for me," Radar waved as he parted from the caravan of two and instead skirted around the side of the mess tent.

~