The almost frozen squirrel feels the heat slowly seeping back into his motheaten fur. It had been a mistake to don the wet skin he realised for not only was he cold and wet but it would take several hot baths with pungent unguments to eradicate the odour of squid. The sooner he did this the better though for every cat in the room had caught the scent and was eyeing him ominously.

Pausing just long enough to thank Sage for her kindness and grab a warming bottle of rum, he dragged himself towards the Recovery Room bathroom. Ah bliss, the warm scented water caressed his aching body, the rum caressed his brain cell and he slipped into a deep sleep.

Back in the tavern they thought someone had started a chainsaw as the snores reverberated through the foundations, shaking the tree.