Strenge shivered as he looked around from his seat in one corner of the common room. He was wrapped tightly in a thick cloak, and had a steaming cup of tea in his hand, but that barely stymied the cold air from seeping into his skin. His headache had mostly vanished, but his eyes would swim if he looked around too quickly.
At long last, someone brough him a warm plate piled full of delicious amenities. Strenge dug in quickly, trying to soak in as much heat from the warm food as he could.
Over his spoon, he watched the customers meander about on thier early-morning chores. He would have liked to strike up converstion with one of them, but Strenge was much too shy to introduce himself.
He wondered where Careardry was again, but decided that he must still have been sleeping.
He finished his meal and leaned back with his tea, finally beginning to warm up.
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