You wouldn't be so eager to sleep if you'd seen the damned thing.

He had argued to no end, then been dragged into the boat by a hand so firm it left four brown bars across his forearm.

While shuffling along the tracks, Gord mentally repeated his arguments against regretting this decision.

William came awake, the second morning after the trauma, to a silent house.

Myriam watched the bobbing light break up among the branches, then disappear, as Gord and Cal crept along the rails that led to the car.

As they spoke the Colonel would occasionally raise his hand, then a building would suddenly be ablaze.

Silence, deep and unyielding, descended. No bullfrogs sounded and no night birds called - even the chirp and buzz of the insects had fallen into a hushed lull.

William had clawed his way through the brush and darkness until he could move no more, then he'd discovered that weeping silently was an exhausting business.

Tonight, the Chrononauts get a lesson in SPELLING. Because it's D&D. And there are spells.

While Gord would have claimed it was "an echo of the past carried by the tail of our nation's avatar," or some crap, Hari simply hoped he wasn't about to require a number of rabies shots.