Morning came with soft pink twilight filtering in past the toadstools, and a light drizzle of rain that might not be entirely well-received. The camp at the foot of the giant toadstools had been left undisturbed that night, reasonably warm and quiet, as if Special Collections was trying to make up for weeks of sleeplessness on the Fandomites' end
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His annoyance at Jono was starting to wear off enough that he was actually considering going around trying to keep people motivated, which was HIS IDEA and not Jono's, thank you very much.
But for now: sausage.
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Natalie had been surviving the last 24 hours or so mostly on chocolate and sheer stubborn willpower because she simply hadn't been hungry. But, she'd also survived both a bickering D&D game and a couple of hours in the labyrinth last night. It was time to consider eating something.
Mr. Moxy flopped down at her feet as she took a seat on a log near Peter.
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