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Eönwë left the village square last. By now the mist had become knee-deep, and thicker than before. A chill wind blew from the East, and Eönwë shivered in the dark.
He nodded to the Guards at his door. They would guard his house tonight, until a proper vote was taken tomorrow.
He tried to get to sleep. But as he lay in bed, he wondered how his scheme would play out, and how the following days of trouble would unfold. Was it really worth it? Would it really help increase the chances of their survival? Only time would tell...
Eönwë finally drifted off into a troubled sleep.
Night 1 has begun. Wolves may plot amongst themselves, and those that must send their picks for the Night must send their picks.
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