As the party rest your thoughts drift and wander to Calamity; you wonder what he would have 
made of this mission. As you think about him the smell of his rituals springs to mind; you 
close your eyes as you imagine watching him perform a ritual, the inscribed papers burning 
in sacrifice, the smoke seemingly almost real.

The smell of smoke is strong from the hearth; you make a mental note to sort out the chimney 
soon as you carry on with your cleaning. You work busily, happily tidying the main room, making 
your home nice and neat and ordered, working till the very last bit of dust is determinedly swept 
out the door.

The cleaning done, you decide to take a short break before starting on making dinner. Carefully 
placing your apron neatly in the prescribed place, you walk softly up the stairs to where your 
child sleeps. The bedroom is almost as meticulous as the rest of the house; you absentmindedly 
start picking up stray toys and returning them to the toy chest.

Heading over to the cot you reach out and gently spin the mobile hanging above it; it depicts 
the phases of the moon. Ducking slighly to avoid hitting the mobile with your head you look down 
into the cot and smile. The werewolf cub is asleep, her tongue lolling out and her leg twitching 
in response to her dreams. Quietly you stroke her silky black fur, once again surprised by how 
lucky you've been.

"Strange how she sleeps most peacefully at this time of the month." Blackwing's voice is 
unmistakeable; you turn and smile to greet him.

"Just like you, my husband," you reply with a smirk. You walk over and give Blackwing a kiss on 
the cheek as you make the way out, beginning to smell smoke. "You must have stoked up the fire for 
me, I'll go prepare dinner".

Walking away smiling to yourself, you notice how strong the smell of smoke is; rounding the corner 
of the corridor you discover yourself amongst the patrol once more.