The day was dawning bright and warm when Captain Bluebear found himself with an irrepressible craving for Muggrooms. He patted his stomach thoughtfully – when was the last time he'd tasted a Muggroom? Years ago, and he'd sworn to himself that he'd never eat another, those blasted things.

He sat up in his bed and gazed down at Avriel. The motion of him getting out of bed roused her and her eyes flitted open.

"Why are you awake? Go back to sleep, it's early," she mumbled, rolling over.

"I know," he chewed his lip. "I was just wondering, do we have any Muggrooms?"

She rolled back over, "Muggrooms? I shouldn't think so."

"Okay." He left the room as quietly as he could and fifteen minutes later, was armed with the knowledge that there were no Muggrooms in the house at all and that it's not a good idea to walk into a kitchen in the pitch black or you might just stub your toe.

He seated himself in his armchair and waited for the sun to arise fully.