Jon was rather hoping they would see the auroras again. Viewing those brilliant swirling colors in the quiet night sky the last time they’d visited this planet had been an incredible experience, and he’d been touched beyond words that Murmur had chosen to share the experience with him, of all people in whichever universe they’d found themselves.

The angel did enjoy his teas. And Jon couldn’t argue that a warm drink would be a perfect accompaniment for whatever they’d wander into tonight, though unlike last time, Jon remembered to wear his gloves tonight. The same gloves gifted to him last time by Murmur, in fact.

“Right,” he says, nodding his agreement as he scans the grid of stalls in the market ahead of them. “Erm, pick a direction?” Jon has no preference.