George
She couldn't quite put a finger on the hour she'd fallen asleep, but nevertheless, Marianne was the first to wake. 

The plan, at first, had been to slumber in shifts, two of the four of them alert at any given time, in case of an untimely attack from the creatures now known to wander Briar Ridge on those dreaded full moon nights. But it seemed that, for another month, the old Wilburn house was as safe as it had ever been, and its occupants remained undisturbed and unharmed until morning light. 

Carefully extracting herself from the blanket she was curled under, blinking sleep and the bright light of day from her eyes, she looked around at the company that had turned up at the door last nightfall. The three men had been nothing shy of wonderful guests, given the circumstance, and she couldn't deny that seeing them arrive one by one, each with a weapon at his side, had been a small blessing. Alone and faced with a creature, she'd no doubt be a goner, with little more than the shadowy hallways and her silver locket for protection. But there had been no hiding in closets this time around. With company on all sides and boards at the windows, she hadn't felt the air too thick to breathe at all. 

Stepping lightly over the aged floorboards, careful not to make too much noise and wake the resting men, she gathered the tin cups they'd been drinking tea from as the moon rose, and took them to the kitchen, where she lit a fire and set a pot of well-water over the flames. The least she could do, before the others were to depart, would be to ensure they left fuelled for the day ahead and whatever cleanup lay waiting in the town square. And she would do that with coffee, with bacon and fresh eggs and thickly buttered doorstop slices of bread. 

There would always be problems far too difficult for one to solve alone. 

Breakfast was not one of them.
David
The light of dawn drew Noah into its its cold embrace, the pale light of the winter morning heralding the dawn of another day and another full moon past. He stretched on the makeshift cot, rifle laying within hands reach beside him, as he took stock of his surroundings. 

A peace over the home and the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Whatever happened the night before did not happen here.

Noah pulled himself up and after taking a moment to gather himself, followed the scent of food into the kitchen. He nodded at his hostess and left his gun laying within reach next to the door. 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

The urge was there to make himself useful, a nagging voice in the back of his mind pushing him to offer his assistance.
George
"Good morning." Marianne's tone was soft, still a little scratchy with sleep. Perhaps she ought to have been better dressed, considering there were men in the home, but she pushed her Ma's voice to the back of her mind, for she was sure Noah had bigger things to worry about than her bare feet on the flagstone and her uncombed hair. "I believe I have everything at least *Halfway* Under control. Would you like to set the table? I can't imagine the others will be far behind you." 

She turned to rifle in a cabinet, and then to hand over a folded and only slightly yellowed tablecloth. "Here. The cutlery should be in the top drawer there, cups just above." If there was one thing she could keep it was a tidy home, with a place for everything, and everything in its place. Though it was a while since she'd welcomed guests in here, so she couldn't be so sure that her organisational methods entirely made sense. 

"How did you sleep, after everything?" She asked after a moment's pause, interrupted only by the sizzle of fat in the pan and the metallic clinking of the knives and forks in Noah's hands. "If I had known we'd be so quiet, I would have arranged the bedrooms for you gentlemen. I feel I've been a questionable hostess."

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David
"I'd be happy to," He offered Marianne a small smile as he began to gather and set out the dishware, following her instructions to cups and the cutlery. Noah let the domesticity wash over him, a comfort with everything set in its place, its function well known. After the last couple full moons, he was hard pressed to comment on the reprieve granted to the household, and he let himself take comfort in the familiar muscle memory of setting the table. 

Marianne's comment gave him pause however, and he turned to look at her with and eyebrow arched. "There's no need to apologize. I'd rather stay awake for most of the night and have nothing happen than go to sleep only to be suprised in the middle of the night. Besides, I've slept on worse than a comfortable floor surrounded by four walls and a roof."

The crooked grin he shot her disguised the truth of his words. When it came to uncomfortable sleeping situations, the Wilburn house was practically a luxury. 

"You didnt happen to hear the... Commotion last night though, did you?" The strange cacophony that had echoed through the holler had kept him on edge until it had faded into the the dark of predawn. Noah couldnt quite tamp down the nerves that they had all missed something, something important, but that ignorance had been exchanged for safety: something precious and not to be taken for granted.
George
Marianne couldn't help but smile at his reassurances. "You're a good man, Mr Owens," She told him quietly. "You're welcome here any time you like, full moon or new or any in between." And to her own surprise, though the words came out without much thought to them, she meant each and every one. Noah reminded her a little of her Julius, in his strong build and small scars, and he made it feel natural to have someone else there, another pair of hands in the kitchen and a set of booted footsteps on the floors. In her private thoughts late at night, she often feared she'd never find that kind of peace in company again. But perhaps the moons were changing her. Perhaps Briar Ridge was beginning to feel like home again at last. Only a handful of years too late.

She took the pot from the fireplace and set it in the centre of the table, placed a heaped spoonful of powdered coffee in each of the cups and gestured for Noah to help himself as she fetched milk and sugar and checked in on the stove. "Not long now, I should think. Though I do hope the deputy and Mr Barnes wake before anything goes cold." 

It was as she was opening the window to let out the smoke that she realised he was asking her a question. "A commotion?" She repeated, casting her mind back to the long night before. "I can't say I heard anything. I fear I was asleep long before the rest of you, I'm afraid. Perhaps the others will be more helpful.."
Walter
It was odd, waking up in another's home. Last night had been Owen's first full moon away from home, and he'd been a complete bundle of nerves the entire time. He'd hardly spoken, instead staring out the window, knuckles white as he clutched to his pitchfork. Once they seemed to get the all clear, however, sleep was quick to take him, though his dreams were wrought with wolves howls and sharp teeth.

The sound of Marianne and Noah speaking rouse him from sleep, followed by the smell of breakfast, and Owen quietly lifts himself into a sitting position on his own cot, blinking blearily. He listens to the pair talk for a good while as he wakes fully, but the question gives him the opportunity to speak.

...Not that he particularly wants to.

"I heard somethin'," His voice is just barely loud enough for the pair to hear, "But I don't think I know what it was. Could have been anythin'."
David
Like a well oiled machine slotting comfortably in its place, Noah poured the boiling water over the powdered coffee and added two heaping spoonfuls of sugar. "Thank you for the hospitality, Miss Wilburn." He brought the cup to his lips and took a long drink of the coffee, willing it to shake off the last bit of weariness from his bones.

The sound of footsteps had him looking over as Owen approached, and he had a feeling of that the larger man practically loomed in the doorway before entering the dining area. Noah only knew him in passing, the previous night having been the first time he had spent any amount of time with the man, and he had been impressed with his vigilance. 

"Some knda howlin and carrying on," He nodded towards Owen in acknowledgement, body still loose and languid from the few hours of sleep he had managed to get. Still, the circles under his eyes betrayed the amount of worry that had gone into the last week of midnights, the memories of the previous month's troubles not yet faded into the past.
George
"Howling? I wonder what could've happened." Marianne looked out of the window, though she was careful not to gaze too long into the treeline, fearing if she lingered something might stare back. "I hope the other houses were as lucky as we turned out to be. For all we know, the noise could've just been the foxes. You know? There's a lot of 'em out there this far out of town." Forcing herself to turn away, she raised her head to greet Owen. "It's good to see you up, Mr Barnes, I hope you had a good rest. Do help yourself to coffee, the eggs are almost done."

She took a moment to pour her own cup, cradling it to her chest as she looked between the two men and then down into the hot, dark surface of the drink. Her own reflection looked back, bearing a grim expression she couldn't quite replace with a smile. For while the walls of her house had kept out the horrors of the night, there was no telling what walking nightmares might be waiting for them in the winter sun.
Janie
Rafael Aguilar Guerrero knew what the sound of a dying beast was - too often had he seen it on the battlefield, and too often had he tried to silence it. Too often was it that they'd killed an already-dying man to silence the cries of anger, pain and suffering. The injured beast must die to protect the pack, or something like that. Those noises were all-too-familiar to the deputy sheriff, but the pain of death was what caused the nightmares. Behind closed eyes, he was barraged with the look of Johanna's face, the sound of her brother's voice, and the grief of failing one's country.

He sits up, groaning as he does - his two fiercely loyal dogs sit up with him, happy to see their owner rise and shine every morning. They have an almost personified nature to them, as if they know better to bark in a house that doesn't belong to them. They like the girls of Briar Ridge pretty well, though, and just as they'd snuggled up to Gracelyn on the day Rafael woke up, they'd nuzzled at Marianne's legs and kept her warm if she'd allowed.

"Ah... *Lo siento,* I seem to be late getting up..." Rafael chirps, pushing his hair back before standing up, slowly, grabbing his walking stick and making his way into the room where everyone had gathered. "...Breakfast smells delicious, Ms. Wilburn. Thank you for hosting us."
Walter
Owen nods once at the offer of food, and pads over to start preparing his plate. The coffee, on the other hand, only gets a small downturn of his lips as a response. The dogs get more of a spirited reaction out of him- his eyes practically sparkle when they sit up to trot over, and he actually *Smiles*.

"It's no trouble, Mister Guerrero- I only got up a little bit ago myself." He inclines his head to the offered coffee. "Miss Wilburn has quite the spread for us."

"Very grateful for the food, Miss, alongside you hostin' us. I wouldn't mind goin' out to check and see what that noise was, if everyone wants to stay inside for a bit longer."

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David
Noah aint never heard a fox make the kind of noises that had filled the air last night, a strange cacophony of howls that nipped at something in his hind brain, reminding him that to these... Things, the people of Briar Ridge were nothing but prey. He took another sip of his coffee as the deputy hobbled into the room.

He didnt know him that well, had actually gone out of his way to avoid the man a bit, and hadnt known he would also be staying at the Wilburn house when Noah originally volunteered his services. Still, someone with dogs as sweet as the two who kept watch with them couldn't be too awful in his book. 

The mention of Owen going out to take a look around had Noah arching an eyebrow. True, the sun was now up and the birds chattering away was a good indicator that it was mostly safe. Probably. Between the mines and the war, Noah had what one might call an over developed sense of self preservation. Noah would say that he was just a paranoid son of a bitch. 

"If you go out, I'll come with ya. No sense in wandering alone till we make sure its safe at least."

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George
For a moment, all Marianne did was listen as the men spoke, talking of going out into the thick of the trees to seek out whatever sound they'd heard in the night. And while she understood their curiosity - naturally, with all of the recent goings-on in town, it would be good men like these to take their weapons and seek answers, or worse, revenge - she couldn't quite ignore the unspoken voice, the one in the back of her mind that whispered in her ear like a devil on her shoulder. Because that voice told her to think of what they'd lost so far, and what was still here to lose.

"If I went out lookin' for every time I heard a fox outside these windows, gentlemen, I'd have never set foot past the front porch in seven years." The plates were done now, but before she took them to the table, she made sure to spare a scrap of bacon for each of the dogs when they came nosing around her ankles. "The wind makes more than her fair share of howls, and she's not the only thing rustling around those trees at night. These woods... And what lives and hides out in them... They're no friends of ours. You gotta be careful... Keep your wits about for as long as you have 'em." 

There were many things she didn't know, but one she knew for sure was that there were the kind of creatures out there that you weren't supposed to speak about, the kind with eyes that shone back at you at dusk and tracked your every step and breath. She'd been a much younger woman when she last saw one, but that sure as hell wasn't a guarantee that they weren't still around.

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Janie
"She's right," Rafael nods, looking down at the plate of food in front of him. "It's still dark out, and we don't know when these beasts turn back into men. All of us are recovering from the adrenaline of the attack - it's going to be in everyone's better interest to sit down until we see the sun. Then, and only then, is it safe to go out." He can't help but wonder what all had gone out through the night - he hates this, hates being idle. As a soldier, he stayed still for hours at a time, looking through his scope under European foliage, looking - waiting - preparing to strike. Despite being an old hound these days, the Rafael of before was a viper, with deadly toxin.



"*Por favor,*" He nods to them both, gesturing to the table. "Sit. Eat. Stay warm. Else *Senorita* Wilburn's hard work will have been for nothing. It's bad manners, no?"
Walter
Owen is already somewhat swayed by Marianne's reassurance on the matter, and Rafael helps put the final nail in the coffin. Still, he stays standing, slowly eating from his plate of food. Any one of them will be able to tell that he's *Severely* Out of his element, doubly so after his offer was so quickly shot down.

...Is he being impolite by not sitting? He's not sure.

"Thank you for offering to come out with me, Mister Owens, even if we... Didn't." He clears his throat.

After a few more moments of awkwardly shuffling in place, Owen finally comes over to sit at the table, setting his plate down in the process. He keeps his gaze settled solely on his plate as he begins to eat once more.

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David
"Any time," Noah offered the man an easy smile and a half salute before digging into his own meal with enthusiasm. Truth be told, he was perfectly happy to stay in the house for a little while longer, enjoying the last bit of peace before they would head out and discover if a new tragedy awaited him. 

The sound of utensils clinking against plates filled the kitchen and the dog that sat nearest to Noah was the happy recipient of a few pieces of egg. Maybe in the spring, Noah would look into getting a pup of his own, something to keep him company during nights spent alone with only his own thoughts for company. The idea warmed him further as he finished the last bite.

"Thank you very much for the meal Miss Milburn. You got anything that needs done around the house, I'd be happy to take a look at it before I left."
George
The talk of investigation put aside for the time being left Marianne feeling much more content. It was enough for now that the four of them had made it through the night unscathed, and whatever lay before them in Briar Ridge could wait, at least, until they had had breakfast. She made sure to keep the coffee mugs filled, as the comfortable quiet cast itself over her table and her guests. 

"You're very kind, Mr Owens, but I believe all is in order for the time being." No doubt, when the final frost thawed come spring she'd find something. A leak in the roof that hadn't been there in the fall, crumbling brickwork around the edges of the garden... She was sure that by now she'd seen every problem the house had in its arsenal to present to her. But for now, it was warm and in one piece, and that would be enough. "I'll be sure to call upon you in the future, should anything come to mind." A smile, as she rose from her place to gather the plates and take them to be washed at the sink. "You gentlemen are welcome to stay as long as you'd like, mind. Don't go rushing off, but of course, I mustn't keep you from your lives either."

She was sure they all had somewhere to be. These were good men, hardworking and devoted to their causes and careers. Her father would have liked them, each and every one. Still, there was no harm in taking a little longer over coffee. 

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Dominque
[I'm going to call this one and claim the ender points for us, since it's been a month <3 ]