Sitting by the fire in my room, carving knife in hand, I slowly chip away at a new piece of wood while Assan snores and twitches on the rug. Time doesn't really change in the Fade, so I can only try and follow a normal routine with the others and guess when night would be. It feels like evening here at the Lighthouse and we've all gone our own ways for the day. Assan is a good clock. He passes out this time every day like it's his job.

I hear a knock on the metal door of my quarters and the squeak of the hinges opening. Footsteps approaching. No danger, not here. Just a friendly face. I look up from my whittling and give a small smile.

"Rook," I greet. "Need something?"