Late at night, crunching and gnawing sounds came from the backyard...
Many people in the inn could not sleep. The moment they closed their eyes, they seemed to see bones and flesh being chewed to pieces. Their whole bodies felt wrong; the darker it got, the more they thought, and the more frightened they became. Their minds drifted, and even when they did fall asleep, their heads were full of nightmares.
The cheapest lodging was a communal bunkroom for three copper coins a night. It was packed with poor commoners reluctant to spend money, farmers who had come to town for the market, hunters carrying animal pelts, coughing patients seeking treatment, peddlers, porters, and caravan hands.
With every kind of smell and every kind of sound, packed shoulder to shoulder, it was not quite so frightening.
The night became endlessly long and agonizing.
Many people were destined to spend it sleepless.
At last, those whose chests felt tight and whose minds were hazy welcomed the first light of dawn. One after another, their faces were worn and haggard. They all hid indoors, not daring to go out and draw well water to wash their faces. Now that it was light, they could see more clearly—the great beast from the storytellers' tales was right nearby.
The longer they looked, the less afraid they became. They were envious beyond measure of the immortal's beast-taming abilities.
Many secretly imagined themselves with a Colorful Fierce Tiger as a mount.
Suddenly, the tiger that had been lying down rose to its feet. It stretched like a cat and looked toward the back door. Before long, Little Girl emerged, yawning and stretching...
No one at a rural inn delivered water to the guest rooms for washing up. There was a well in the backyard, used for