The enclosed hallway continues west around the morning shadow of the monastery. Moisture and the coldness of the previous night find their last refuge in this corner. Pilaster hum a fuzzy near imperceptible orange glow cast by the reflection of the distant dunes through the fuzzy scuffed windows. Your breath forms clouds here, and inhalation feels of hard alcohol. You have a wish, a need to leave this place, either end you see the glow of the morning sun casting through the windows of a greater cloister. And through these doors on the inner wall a draft of warmth and the smell of incense and burnables.