With his unique empathy and the recent string of grisly murders weighing heavily on his mind, Will had been forced to submit to the close monitoring of his psychiatrist. Having the doctor keep tabs on his whereabouts was far from ideal, but it did mean he had some company at home in the isolated lifelessness of his Wolftrap property. It was the quiet, dusk hours when Will found himself standing awake before the window, his seven beloved dogs clustered at his feet. The animals whined softly, sensing the presence of the psychiatrist who had descended the stairs without a sound, drawing Will's weary gaze. "Ah." Will greeted, his voice a soft, tired murmur. "Couldn't sleep?"