shane pls

Shane actually looked winded when he got to the training ground, which was unusual.

"Haven't seen you in a bit," Gaster said. "Had a good run?"

Shane flopped onto the ground nearby. "I was in the Persisteco capital a week ago for a meeting. Decided to skip the return stagecoach."

Gaster did some mental math. The capital of Persisteco was several days by horseback. Given that Shane's pace for long-term travel was... no, that couldn't be right...

Gaster's jaw dropped. "You didn't sleep on the way back!?"

"I mean, I did! Just, only four hours a night."

"Why!?"

"I wanted to see if I could."

...Well, Gaster could respect that. "Mila is going to kill you, you know."

"Just don't tell her how long I was out there for."

"Let me heal you so there's less evidence, then." Gaster kneeled and concentrated on the green magic: just some overuse injuries. Nothing significant, to Gaster's relief. "That much exertion means you'll have the appetite of an ox, though. Can't hide that."

"Not like that's unusual." Shane rolled onto his elbows and pushed himself upright with a grunt. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go sleep for a year."

Gaster felt himself smiling. "Have a good nap."