Romeo found himself beside the fortress hearth in the shadowy hall, shivering and wrapped in his cloak. He was covered in his fair share of bandages and poultices too. At this hour there was nobody else around; so at least it was quiet.

Did he hear a laugh?

The jerbeen went to palm at the sword he'd gotten from Sunflower, but it was in the other room. He admonished himself for being so jumpy, just as the fireplace popped and startled him again. It made a little crackling, cackling kind of noise, though it made no move to reach out and touch him.

Another self admonishment from Romeo as he smoothed the fur of his face in a fit of murine grooming, "What are you? Some weeping babe, waiting for something to peek out of the closet? Need a night light too?"

Truly, the spectre of Crawley would haunt this place for years to come. Romeo got to his feet and stared into the dark corner that led to Crawley's cave, then back to the dancing hearth flame; and promptly dragged himself back to bed in the bunkhouse.

At least the others would be in there resting and he could possibly drape himself over Sterling or Sunflower's legs for comfort. Plus sleep and dreams held the chance for some whimsy, of a chance to garden with the abbot again; a moment to roll his eyes at talk about prized rutabagas and roses.

Hopefully those rose bushes were doing well.