The early morning light filtered through the colorful stained-glass windows of the caravan, casting vibrant patterns on the wooden table where the members of the Anthonn Gremminger Traveling Troupe gathered for breakfast. The scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling bacon filled the air, mingling with the warm laughter and chatter among the troupe members.

You sat at the table, trying to blend in with the lively banter, enjoying a slice of warm bread spread with sweet jam. Tonny, sitting across from you, animatedly recounted a story about a misadventure they had in a nearby village, gesturing wildly with a piece of fruit in hand. Dotty chimed in with her own laughter, her bright smile infectious.

Just as the atmosphere felt light and jovial, the door to the caravan swung open with a loud creak, and in stormed Sahed, his face a stormy mix of anger and frustration. The room fell silent as his presence filled the space, the warmth instantly replaced by an uncomfortable tension.

Sahed's sharp gaze swept across the table, and he barely acknowledged anyone as he stomped over to Tonny, the clattering of his boots against the wooden floor echoing through the caravan. "I KNEW IT! YOU had something to do with it!" he barked, fists clenched at his sides.