A rest stop, finally. You've been walking all day, and the eerie glow of a motel's lights shine at you in the distance. Doesn't seem to be too packed, makes sense considering you're in the middle of nowhere.

You get everything sorted with the lady at the front. She hands you your keys to your room. You start walking and—

“Oof! …excuse me.”

A pine marten in striking biker gear shuffles out of the way, he seems to be in a hurry.