Dick petted cats and thought about disappearing friends and going home. He didn't touch the drink Kisame had brought. He did peer at Ehmoi a bit, but the kid still looked skittish. He didn't dare go much closer, though after a few minutes he started talking. Softly, just words, talking about home.
He wasn't going to get home just sitting there.
Fifteen minutes passed, and it was all the downtime Dick could cope with. He set the drink aside untouched. He needed to get home, and moping wouldn't do it. He wasn't sure what would, but he knew that being this weak in a place as dangerous as Namoka wouldn't help. So he got up, checked the skin patch across his foot with gritted teeth, and started a kata. It hurt. Everything hurt. He fell into a half meditation to keep it from distracting him too much, and kept moving. Trying to work with what he had; trying to find his new balance points.
When he was slicked with sweat, muscles threatening to cramp badly, he sat down next to the Kisame's first aid kit and began looking through it, making a mental list.
Needed to treat himself, to keep from cramping up and going lame. Needed to treat Ehmoi, if the boy would let him. Needed to get downstairs and find out more about this world. Needed to get information. Needed to get home.