In the morning, the old firbolg awoke early and left the hut, conjuring forth several handfuls of goodberries for the entire village (and for some of the nearby fauna). All of the firbolgs sat around the tree in silence as he passed a berry out to each of them and to any of the party members who happened to be out with him at the time. None of them ate their berries until the guests and nearby animals ate. Even the children cooperated and sat in silence, likely a strange occurence to those who had grown up in cities.

"Comen tellen us tales, if you want." The firbolg tried his best to emulate the weird speech patterns of the others, and seemed quite proud of the accomplishment. Despite his still somber attitude, even those in the party with no people skills could easily tell he was trying to lighten the mood for his people, some of whom were crying. "Tellen us tales of yer homelands and the out-of-forest."