Picking his way outside, Angel took a few steps away from the set of large back doors and stretched upward. The sky was still dim, but lighter near the horizon that he could see through the trees. Far off in the distance he could see a field of yellow, which looked like wildflowers by their sheer vivid tone even so early in the morning, but it was too far away to identify. He stepped forward and sat on the ground, despite its damp dewiness, and breathed in, testing the morning air in his lungs. It was cool and clear and he didn't feel any thickness or resistance, or the desire to cough or wheeze or use his inhaler. That was a positive, at least, and he fell back on the grass and squirmed into a comfortable position.

He wasn't alone for long; Maddie, the fuzzy-haired hippy-type he'd befriended yesterday, flopped down with a book beside him and rearranged her purple skirt that looked like it was made from ten feet of cloth. Angel sat up and pulled her into a one-armed hug and settled down with her, pulling at her skirt and using it as a blanket, earning a playful shove and tackle. They were suddenly pulled up by Miles, the IT hopeful, and shoved back inside for breakfast.