Upon rousing, Turo moves to find a spot that is a bit secluded from his companions and then kneels in prayer and meditation. He spends the next hour renewing his channel to his deity, replenishing his power, and preparing for the challenges that he knows must certainly lie ahead.
Then, he joins the others for a breakfast of hardtack and pemmican, with some nuts and dried fruit for variety. "Makes me long for a nice inn," says Turo, chewing on a particularly tough peice of the cured meat.
I'll get up Turo's prepped spells shortly.