Festivals are more than welcome any time of year, in Greg's book. Food, drinks, music, and most importantly, raised spirits all come with them, and he's someone who embraces it. The summer festival had been a little bit wearisome, admittedly, since he didn't really find anyone to go with, but... things are a little different, now. Some light-hearted spookiness can help shake off the remains of the genuinely nasty events in the last couple months.

So, he's eager to rope anyone he can into the fun of it; seeing the sights, sharing the snacks, playing at the booths, spending on trinkets. He'll shove a corn dog in your hand even if he's never met you, don't think he won't, they're too delicious not to share.

Greg's passed up some of the masks he found most disturbing in favor of a generic werewolf--he's trying to have fun, not exacerbate things--but he can't help but pause and give closer look at one lantern that sends chills down his spine. Casting a greenish light, the thing's in the shape of a hand.