dirtthefox

————— Heavy footsteps echoed through a lengthy, dimly lit hallway, carrying a lively, though slightly irregular pace. A cluster of unmistakably inorganic cadences followed close behind, their number alone nearly enough to drown out the comparatively diminutive footfalls of their leader. At the head of the line, a grayish male sugar glider, of noticeably shorter stature than his entourage, marched. Ahead, a large, intricately decorated wooden door, no less embellished than the hall it served to end, stood between them and their destination. On approach, the group halted, and the sugar glider pushed the door open with ease, in spite of its apparent mass. A faint wisp of smoke slipped through the door as it opened. “Good morning, Carlisle.” He called out into the now open room. Carlisle, a graying sabertooth, stood stalwart in front of a sizable stained glass window, which cast colored rays into the slightly smoky chamber it accented. He finished a drag from a near-finished cigar, and