Despicable timings

Hi there! How ya doin'?

Despicable timing. Absolutely hor-rendous. Midnight, she's shifted on by when nobody was watching and now we're suddenly thundering into tomorrow. What's a boy supposed to do?

Johns caught a magnificent salmon today, up at the Darkening Pool. The trees about there are imbued with some spirit or other, I'd swear it. The green on them is so rich and deep it almost runs from their branches and into the cold, black waters. What a sight then when that cut of silver rose all muscle into the gloaming. The beast almost dragged our young friend into the mysterious depths; it was like watching two gladiators battle for their lives, smashing and slashing and biting their frantic way. By the time it was over Johns was finished, the fish twitching it's last in the net, he struggling to get his breath back. It was a merry old walk back to the house, the three of us recounting the fight, turning it into legend. Elpseth met us at the door, wide-eyed at the sight of the salmon.
"I've not a pot big enough!" she said, taking it from John and struggling under it's bulk. Let's hope she found a sizable pot, for there's a hunger in me know like few I can remember.