The party moves out, walking even more slowly than before. As the sun begins to set, the pall of twilight begins to suffuse the colors of the day. At one point, Druid raises his head and looks side to side as if he heard something, but shakes his head and keeps walking. Moments thereafter, a chorus of three high-pitched but melodious voices, surrounding the party, break out in song. As the melody weaves and lifts, everyone's faces but Trilgat's assume an air of serenity. Their knees bend, and they slowly and delicately collapse to the ground; their eyes close, and they fall asleep. Grey Fox rumbles with a particularly raucous snore, while Druid makes the occasional muffled 'mmmfmm' under his breath. A fourth voice, just behind Trilgat at about head height squeaks, "You really should get some rest, too," and giggles.
"I meant," said Iplsore bitterly, "what is there in this world that makes living worthwhile?"
Death thought about it.
"CATS," he said eventually, "CATS ARE NICE."
Terry Pratchett, Sourcery