Starlit

It was night. Pushing the ivy curtain aside, Ror stepped on the balcony and walked over to the edge. He sat down on the railing and listened to the sounds of the forest at night. High above him in the heavens, the stars twinkled and no moon could be seen. Out of a pouch came an old pipe, prestuffed with a fine herb, and he placed the end of the pipe in his mouth while he lit the other. Gradually, rings of smoke rose above the balcony, diluting and disappearing as they ascended. Ror sighed and watched starlit Westbridge at the horizon. Tonight would be a night for some deep thinking.