#elsewhere

"Now you're gonna make me hungry again."

"Yeah, look, I don't care what you say, track suit designs are not an ancient scottish symbol for 'edible if you earn it'"

"Campers are better!" She argues. "I can blame it on a bear!"

"And some poor bear gets framed and hunted and shot... " Gwen knows that Briar is more likely to feel sorry for the bear than the camper

Though, admitedly, in her own more unseelie moments, Gladiola wonders if GLAMPERS might not be asking for it. Go to the wild and SHOW you're soft? Really? You might deserve to be eaten

"Maybe they'll tell the Baron to hunt it down. I ain't had bear sausage in AGES! And you know, if you put up no trespassin', you're allowed to eat 'em."

She raises a plumed brow.

"It's TRUE!" Briar protests!

"Stand yer ground!"

"I confess, given Ivan is of a bear killing breed, I can't throw too many stones, but let's not endanger them eh?"

"Also, I think stand your ground is Texas"

"I wanna see Ivan fight a bear!"

"I don't. Ivan is bad ass, but I don't want to sell his life cheaply"

"Maybe a teddy bear."

"You sayin' he couldn't man up?

"One with a squeaky."

"He could. But the smart move would be more than one dog on the bear. Same reason Redcaps prefer corbies to take down a troll"

BIG GRIN. "One for the guts and one for the nuts!"

They know that's just spaghetti sauce on her shirt and in her teeth but still, a gory look.

"Yeah regretting I said that already"

"AND ONE TO BITE 'EM IN THE BUTT!" Briar crows in delight.

A hapless look to Thistle "he does love squeeky toys"

Snickering.

"Well, I gotta get home t'morrow and take care of the mutts while you're on puppy patrol. Why don't you show me around the new trashheap now?" Briar suggests.

(Fade to snickering?)

(Fade to snickering and tour!)

It is nighttime, and the guests - well, they are now owners, or at least tenants, perhaps? Are tucked away in their chosen rooms and slumbering.

Perhaps.

Briar is SNORING.

Ivan is perhaps in Gwen's room, as she has not, Yet at least, been told that dogs should not be allowed in the house?

Gwen is...
• Sleeping (The sensible option)
• Journaling, or perhaps reading a book?
• reading/texting on her phone
• Telling Ivan whoosagoodboy, yes he is, yes he is
• Playing a ditty on her flute to test the patience of the neighbors
• Other?!
Late at night, the midnight hour since struck, Thistle, is...

• Sleeping (The sensible option)
• Winding Citrine's key
• Reading a book, perhaps one she found
• Reading/texting on her phone
• Other?!

Gwen tests the sound of the house, playing her flute. She's getting good at it. She tries to play softly. Clearly Ivan likes it as he is nearby

Ironically, the tune is 'Flying Higher' theme from Rocky

Thistle makes a face.

Wind wind wind the key - it's a small thing to keep Citrine running, really.

Well, then sleep is tried

Thistle is a sprawler.

Ivan lays next to his person, though as a guard dog he wakes up now and then

Where the Nevers go? Well, a few are in Thistle's room, at least.

The house has some creaks and groans, as older houses do. Settling, it’s called.

Gwen sleeps well in the comfy room. Ivan occasionally looks up, but sets his furry head back down to snooze.

Briar snores.

Thistle is sprawled amongst little spots if warmth, a trio of Nevers that found their way in.

The sound, when it comes, is faint. Nothing that would awaken a Troll up on the top floor, nor a snoozing redcap, and not the Nocker, yet anyways. A soft clicking sound, rhythmic tap tapping.

Citrine, however, buzzes a bit- she’s freshly wound, and awake. She was exploring the kitchen cabinets, but flutters back into Thistle’s room at the sound.

zzzz

A bit of a chiming sound. Perhaps upset at the other nevers on the bed.

Sleepy bells in return as the intruder nevers peep back.

The light flashing and soft complaints of nevers intrudes on whatever dreams a nocker has…

Mumbled. "Go to bed, idjits."

Chime, chime. Tick tick tick tick tick

Not Citrine’s rhythm, she knows it well

"Citrine, it's bedtime."

Grumpy, she cracks an eye open.

A shadow on the ceiling, large shape- only vaguely lit by nevers, it could be her imagination. But did it move?