10-12-2009, 12:59 AM
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The interior of the mansion was exquisite, a place of refined goods that had not been blanketed in a far amount of dust that upon entering it, Hezekiah had to stifle a sneeze for fear that it would echo. And echo it did, down the empty, quiet corridors, off the hardwood floors and solid walls. After days of deliberating, he had come back to the mansion once again to escape the rain and explore just what it was that had descried his attention before. Though he had made most of the travel in his lupus form, he had since changed to optime before entering the building (otherwise trying to operate the door would have been an epic fail), which had put him on better terms with the interior. Furniture didn’t have to tower over him this time and stairs didn’t have to be some awkward thing to try and take all four feet up; he could explore the place in the way that it was meant to be explored like those of the creatures who had built it.
Navigating the place, he couldn’t help but be set off by something unseen, something that played so heavily at his imagination that the sound of the rain tapping against the windows in one room seemed so different in another. There was ever the faintest dripping sound in one part of the house and in one room he ventured through, the smell of something old and musty, as though some other damp-haired creature had been there hours ahead of him. Which was very likely, because he was well aware that some had taken up refuge in the mansion at one point or another. Even with the dust on things, some rooms were put in order while others were in disarray; he supposed members of Inferni had kept it in line at some point after whatever had lived there before was gone.
One such room of this mansion was a grand library, where bookcases lined the room from floor to ceiling. Somewhere set in piles that had been knocked askew, but the shelves were remarkably full. Now for a canine who had been intelligent enough to master written word, this room would have been a gold mine of entertainment. But to Hezekiah, who had not, the room was nothing more than another mystery. But it’s open structure and the grand windows that lined the far wall of the room drew him in and he raked his nails gently over the cover of one of the books as he did so, that very hand continuing to gently go across the smooth hardwood tabletop in the process. His senses were set alive by the old smells and while there was ever both a dusty and musty smell that enveloped everything, he could tell that whoever had put the room back into reasonable order had spent quite a lot of time there, but they were evidently long gone.
Which, ironically, seemed to be like anyone else who may have inhabited the place.
Or so he thought.