He liked it. The cooling and almost sort of numbing sensation he felt as he passed the tent. The lights didn't bother him much as he'd learned to be suspicious of everything and it felt rather natural. As if, that's what one should feel when confronted with anything at all. He was in the mood for risk, having to administer his own potion.

The rubbery material that constituted Cutty Mordaunt's soul felt lighter, even more than usual, he noted as he stepped into a carriage and took a seat on the lushy green seats. He felt like a new wizard entirely.

Tonight was going to be a good night.