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The first night passed without incident, all yet merry with the thoughts of the festivities. Most of the guests stayed up to hear Goody's tale and were rewarded with more than a quiver down their spine. Yet, as the night drew on, most slowly wended their way towards their rooms, which the Innkeeper had warmed with hot stones in their beds. Goody and a few others remained to keep the Yule Log burning but Carr had been among those who sought sleep. Time enough later he decided to sit with the tellers.
And so the morn brought work, clearing out the kitchen fires and rekindling them, helping Cook prepare the breads and stews and pies by bringing up supplies from the larder, no easy task given his leg. Each year at this time it ached and he remembered Yules past.
He sprinkled the embers out on the pile where yesterday's rubbage had been burned and noticed the tracks around it, most of which he recognised. Aye! Let all animals take community in these dark nights that welcome a new year. He heard a short, sharp chirp. A wren was it? Carr looked up and saw a snowy owl perched atop the shed. Maybe with these around other creatures more fey would stay away.
With that he returned to the Inn, offerring Goody a heaping plate of breakfast buns and cheeses, some eggs and sausages and gut stuffing, a steaming cup of coffee. A reward of free breakfast for each teller! The first watch had passed and the log burned brightly. Would Good stay to tell more? He couldn't remember how her tale had ended.... sleepy old man that he was.
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