Sans was starting to think that maybe transforming every night wasn't working out. It used too much energy, and after some mishaps with nightmares earlier in the week, he was feeling increasingly drained. Maybe he was too fragile to put his body under that much strain so often. Maybe power just had to have its limits.

Either way, he was spending his patrol that night as himself. Too many people had been noticing him in his big form anyway, and he was still feeling uncomfortable with the idea of telling people outright that the giant monster in the trees was him. He still doesn't know how to reconcile the feeling of it with his regular identity, or how to reconcile his real identity with what he showed on the outside.

He's starting to feel trapped all over again, like nothing he can do will be right. At least this time it's probably mostly his fault again - just like it was in the beginning... when...

His thoughts stall completely as something catches his eye in the darkness. The Warden hesitates, looking out from the trees towards the carnival grounds. His own faint luminescence makes things a little bit less dark, but slowly, hesitantly, he finds himself lifting up a hand to quietly summon up a light spell - just enough to make sure there's no carnivorous blankets swarming the ground, or other sneaky nightmares plaguing the night.

He carefully treads forward, trying to get a better look. A nameless feeling of dread is rising up within his soul, and yet he can't quite place it, even as familiar as it is.

That feeling... it can't be. His tail sways uneasily as he slowly crosses the grass, trying to get a better look - trying to find a way to prove himself wrong about his instincts.

"Hey... if you're not a nightmare... better speak now before I make you rest in peace."