#and thank you catfeather for selling me some g for t 'v'

[pumpkin-bread]

Waking up felt different, that morning.

Hmm, no. That night. The sky - framed by gnarled, leafless trees - was dark, and the air was heavy. Rain was coming.

He propped himself up and attempted to clear his throat, only to be hit by just how raw his lungs felt. The air felt as if it was cutting deeper into him with every inhalation, and soon he was doubled over in a coughing fit.

It was only then that he realized just how awful he felt. Dizzy, heavy. What little he could see spun around him as he tried to take a full breath. A strange thought crossed his mind - that it felt like it had been a long time since he'd had to at all.

"Nonsense," he wheezed, shutting his eyes as he pressed his head against the frozen earth. It was probably just a hangover. It fit fine. He was fine.

What did he do last night? What did he do... before that?

Run his carnival, of course. His and Jack's.

It felt so long ago, but he couldn't recall a thing beyond that.

It couldn't be far. It literally couldn't - he was bound to it, after all. But where was Jack?

The sky rumbled, and the stinging on his shoulders let him know it was not rain, but hail beginning to pelt down.

He swore and felt around on the ground. Where the hell was his hat? Was he wearing anything? No wonder he was so bloody cold.

Cyval, the head of the illustrious Traveling Carnival, stumbled to his feet and hobbled through the dark wood.

It was time to get everyone together.

Time to get the show back on the road.