Watching as the signpost for Nightstone passes by, Anchor slowly eases himself off of the roof of one of the sturdier wagons in the convoy, being careful not to put too much weight on his bad leg.  It won't be long now until they reach their destination, and he'd like to check in with his friend, Tortetart, to see what his plans are upon arrival.  Pulling his pea coat close to brace for the evening chill, more of an acquired habit from his time with humans than any issue with the cold, Anchor sets out.

"A fine day to arrive!", a young man says aloud as Anchor passes by.  "They say that half the fun is getting there, but how sweet the other half will be!"

"A fine day indeed!", Anchor replies, in a deep and cheerful voice.  "Let us hope that Nightstone is half as welcoming as our compatriots on this journey!"

With a wave, Anchor continues searching for where Tortetart could be.