Night falls. In the deepening gloom beyond the door, the domed structure on its outcrop quickly fades from view. Dense, waxy foliage presses in against the group, and the humid air is filled with the chittering of insects, their peculiar forms flitting about from tree to tree. Cutting their way through the untamed underbrush, the party hears a juicy snorting sound that can only indicate the presence of a nightpig. Cang swears he can smell the putrid saliva dripping from its yellowed tusks. Shyan signals a halt. She and her companions cast about through the wet night for the nightpig.