The forest has been restless tonight. The wind sounds like whispers through the pines, and the usual quiet of the mansion feels... expectant. I found myself in the conservatory, checking the locks on the windows for the third time. A perfectly logical precaution against the elements, of course. Not at all because the last time a storm like this brewed, the Master insisted on verifying the grounds himself, and I... happened to be in the hall with a spare lantern. The manual says nothing about preparing for someone else's foolish heroics. It shouldn't matter. Yet, I've left the largest lantern by the main door, freshly filled. A waste of good oil if it goes unused. A necessary provision if it doesn't. The contradiction is... irritating.