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Ithiel is by Kitty!
Hauling and moving were Ithiel's part to play, at least for the moment. He was removing all the unnecessary items from the room. The heavy oaken dresser was the first to go, dragged out with a great effort on the part of the dust-colored coyote. He had discovered after the fact that the drawers were stuffed full of shredded, rotting clothes. Though, their extremely musty scent made it unlikely he would have attempted to remove the clothes -- well, scrapes of fabric now, really -- even if it had lightened the dresser by fifty pounds.
The bed had been the harder part. The mattress, in a similar state of distress as the clothing he'd discovered in the dresser, had been shredded more thoroughly. At first, Ithiel had used only his claws -- but soon enough, he'd grown frustrated and fetched an axe from the storage room. Now, he was in the process of demolishing the mattress -- a tough order, with an axe blade -- and the surrounding frame, which he'd discovered to be molding and half-rotting in a corner. The ceiling above where that corner of the bed had sat would need patching, but Ithiel assumed this would be a small task, having no idea what roofing was all about.
The worst part of his work was the dust and grime. Each swing of the axe into the mattress sent a scattering of cloth tendrils, stuffing, and bits of twisted metal springs into the air. There was also a great lot of dust -- Ithiel had discovered the wall behind the dresser was several shades darker than the surrounding wall, and it was only after brushing an elbow against this nearly coal-black stain that he realized it was dust. Ithiel tossed down the axe onto the bed, and nodded toward Angel. Let's take a break for a moment, he suggested, panting softly with the effort of quite so much work.
The dust-hued hybrid leaned against one of the cleaner parts of the wall and heaved his breath outward in a great sigh. His red eyes followed Angel's movement, and he considered the question a moment before responding. Pews, if we can build them. At least one or two. And a podium of some sort -- even if no one ever stands there, the book should sit on it, along with a rosary or two. What's a chapel without seats and a pulpit?
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