It may not have been days (plural) but a full day had passed since Jet had fallen asleep. Albert let him rest, knowing that to be the best he can do for a fever here in the arena and as long as they're cyborgs he can protect them if they stay in one place. He'd ventured out onto the street a few times, once when he'd heard a noise, and again when Sabriel had come close. They'd fought off a pack of these wild dogs and while Albert may look a little worse for the wear, the dogs had fared much worse.

At least they'll have food for a good while. He's already turned one into jerky - the oven in the gutted house may not work but with the weather so hot the meat dehydrates quickly regardless so the rack is laden with precisely cut strips of do meat - and is in the process of skinning a second with the knife in his left hand when he hears Jet come up behind him.

"You should be resting still. Your fever broke but you've been out a fully day." He glances up at his partner, brushing at the dried blood on his cheek with the side of his right hand. "I'm fine, I've just been holding the perimeter."