[Arrival]

One moment he was on the battlefield, the next...

He's on his own two feet--weak, but vertical. The physicians in this place saw to it that he was well hydrated, that he had the nutrients he needed, and sent him on his way.

Now, he had this bundle of information, a key, a home...a place away from Paris and the regiment, away from Roxane and Christian. Away from his disgrace.

He's torn between sorrow and a strange, almost sinful lightness of being...and he can't decide which to embrace as he walks the streets, searching for his new home.

[Boardwalk]

Once part of the boardwalk opens for adult clientele, Cyrano takes up residence at a table in the corner of one establishment serving wine. He has pen and paper, a notebook purchased earlier in the day, and he's trying to write--about the fighting, about this place, about his pain.

Around him, the night is a celebration of light, food, drink, and laughter--but within, he's devoid of anything that could reasonably be called joy. He's...lost.

He needs to find his guide if he's to understand what he's to feel--and the only true north he knows are the words.