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	What rest could be had in this relatively shorter time was had for those who took the time to do so. Admittedly, it helped some more than others, but any time to collect one's self and suck in slow-moving oxygen in peace was a good thing. Add some local fare to warm one's stomach and a fire to bring life back into weary limbs, a person might feel truly refreshed regardless of more tangible recoveries procured by others. 

	Outside, the moon stood in the misty blue sky, barely visible through the haze of fog and the time of day, as it was still day for a little bit yet. The nearby celestial body was wide and round, seemingly peering down upon its terrestrial cousin with quiet, noble contemplation, unaware of what havoc to which it might be unwillingly a party. A sort of disembodied anticipation had bceome commonplace in the Township of Avonshire, now set to tension rivaling the tautest of harp strings. 

	Inside of the Public House, all was quiet except for the motions and words of the eclectic, stalwart adventurers present. It was warm and illuminated by soft candles and hearthfire, with the smell of good food, tea, and wine still lingering, if only slightly. The unused tables were clear, as was the bar with the exception of the note from the Halfling cook. This silence of word and deed was pervasive, as Bob excused himself to his home for the evening, Daisy had yet to be accounted for, and Lea had stepped into the kitchen some time earlier. Even when her name was called upon, she did not answer, let alone make her way back into the taproom. 

	Twilight was fast approaching; following this was the inevitable night. With this came radiance and clarity of the full moon, with every implication that meant in this cursed place.