Petruccio shivered involuntarily as he arrived at his home, the cold rain beginning to soak through his heavy robes to his clothing underneath. The cart came to a creaking halt as a thunderclap boomed across the sky, drawing both the attention of the tired horse and the tired doctor to the sky. If there ever was a sign God was displeased with something the rolling boom, that shook even the glass in Petruccio's mask, would have been a perfect indicator. Hurrying himself down from the drivers seat, as the heavy rain picked up, the young doctor grabbed the reigns and lead the cart and old horse into the stable provided by the city. Removing his mask he set about unhitching the cart and taking care of the sopping horse before collecting his mask, dashing into his home, closing and bolting the door behind him. After stoking the fire back to life, and lighting a few candles, Petruccio set about removing his soaked robes, hanging them next to the fire to dry. As the clothes began to dry, steam rising from them and curling up and into the rafters, Petruccio set a small pot of water on the fire to warm, after which he retrieved a large bowl, a small earthenware jar and a small rough cloth. Opening the jar reveled the sharp smell of vinegar, which he poured a small amount of into the bowl. Carefully retrieving the pot, he tipped it's hot contents into the bowl as well, mixing the two together into a two to one ratio of water and vinegar. Dipping the cloth in the solution, Petruccio began to wipe away the sweat of the day.

After a few minutes he set down the rag and sighed, putting his head in his hands. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, the combination of the plague victims and the battle wounded were taking a heavy toll on all of the doctors in the city, what little there were, and Petruccio was no exception, even now his eyes closed slowly as the comfort of rest seemed to call to him. Yet he could not succumb to the exhaustion that toyed with his mind, not this close to the waxing of the full moon. He felt it there, as always, sleeping beneath his skin, growling and waiting, waiting for his will to slip even an inch, waiting for the call of the moon, even now it stirred out of hunger and the approaching full moon. Petruccio gritted his teeth and forced it back to sleep. Standing he quickly gathered together some dried meat, bread, and some thin stew from this morning that had warmed from the fire. He ate all of it ravenously, ripping the meat off in large mouthfuls, which were followed by swallows of stew and mouthfuls of bread. The sight was over in mere moments, Petruccio letting out a contented sigh as he swallowed the last of it. [i]"That should keep it satiated for a while.[/i] he thought to himself, and from what he could tell he was right, for now, the beast had abated in its rousing, its hunger no longer felt. Finally able to admit defeat, Petruccio doused the fire with what remained of the vinegar solution, and climbed the stairs to his bedroom, falling forward into his bed at the first opportunity, quickly detaching himself from the world, at least temporarily, in sleep.