[it is evening.

the treehouse, for those who pass it regularly, is a little differently tonight. what is normally a soft even glow of light seems to be flickering vaguely, and the heavy curtains that make up its door are drawn, the ladder left down.

perhaps something is up.

if no one else would notice, violet certainly would.]

[It is the middle of the night, and although people are probably still up and about in other parts of camp, the area below Warren's treehouse is quiet. Inside, the space heater hums softly, and a crankypyro rolls over in bed ( Read more... )

[Warren is sitting in his treehouse, reading.

....yeah, what else is new?]