No more random spirits rushed into the camp that night, no Wyvern was hounded over to us to try and roast us alive; there weren't any Cultists roaming around sharpening their knives, and there wasn't even a pack of wolves roaming around looking for their next meal.
The forest was silent and contained the lingering acrid tang of all the various things that had been burnt in our earlier fight, but even that tang was chased away by the cold night air... and it was really chased away by the greasy meat roasting over the campfire.
The paltry few herbs that had been scavenged from the area gave it a little more flavor, but apparently - despite being a rather lean looking monster - the Wyvern was packed with fat in the right places, giving its meat a really juicy and tasty flavor.
