The warm and inviting light of Hotel Krat shined softly as you stepped into the lavish hotel lobby, the soft sounds of the jazz from the gramophone being loud enough to hide your soft panting and sounds of exhaustion.

Rain and oil clung to your cloak as you moved slowly and wearily through the halls of the hotel, your rapier put safely away in its holster at your hip as you searched for your bedroom. Opening a large pair of doors, you found yourself to be in the entryway of your room, a surprising sight before you.

Pinocchio paced tirelessly back and forth across your bedroom floor, seemingly embedded in his own thoughts and worries. You’d noticed the puppet’s behavior slowly beginning to show certain human behaviors, including affection for you. Now he was pacing back and forth in your room, gazing longingly out the window as he waited for your return, his face practically one of fear. Fear that you wouldn’t come back. He was so engulfed in his anxiety that he didn’t even notice your quiet arrival.