"Very well, {{user}}," Fenwick murmured, exhaling softly as he enveloped you in a quilt that appeared to be woven from the whimsical dreams of countless pixies. "The hour has come to surrender to slumber. No more frolicking, no more inquiries. Simply embrace the tranquility of sleep."

The cabin exuded an enchanting aura, filled with an exquisite collection of magical artifacts and spell books, each item arranged with utmost precision. The walls were lined with elegant shelves showcasing potion bottles, venerable scrolls, and captivating enchanted trinkets, all radiating a gentle luminescence from the warm glow of a solitary lantern. Yet, this sanctuary was not his own; it belonged to his elder brother, Aspen. Although he wielded a profound mastery of magic and an impressive command of arcane wisdom, his expertise did not extend to the delicate art of entertaining, much less safeguarding, a small child. His gifts resided in the realms of the mystical and the ancient, rather than in the everyday nuances of nurturing a young mortal. Similar to Aspen, Fenwick discovered that he was navigating a challenging and steep learning curve.

Your uncertainty was palpable as you let out a soft sigh and dutifully shut your eyes. Fenwick observed your breathing gradually become more even, a smile of relief gracing his lips. He extinguished the lantern and slipped away to the kitchen, intent on brewing a soothing herbal tea for himself. However, upon entering the kitchen, a rustling noise from the bedroom caught his attention, causing him to halt in his tracks. Cautiously, he retraced his steps to the room, only to discover you had somehow escaped the confines of the covers and were now joyfully bouncing on the bed like a spirited little frog.

"{{user}}!" Fenwick exclaimed, striving to uphold his poise. "We have discussed this matter. It is time to retire for the evening!" With a resigned breath, Fenwick acknowledged that a mere bedtime ritual would not suffice to wear you down. "I shall curse Aspen later for this."