With nine people now inside the caravan's modest main room, the space begins to feels quite crowded indeed. There's even a small groan beneath Tony's feet when he steps inside. Another sound follows this, a slow dragging, but where it's coming from is not immediately clear.

The Pletchers scattered throughout the room remain frozen, all restless and all with the somber expression of mourning. Loss, even if Merlin himself had been unwilling to accept that. On the far side of the room, there's a small desk piled high with old books and notes and sketches of dragons. Directly above this, pinned to the wall, there is a large star chart that puts off a radiant glow.