[Gallagher]

"Mousse!" The click of the lock, a clink of dishes, and the clack of heels against wood. "Où es-tu?" Lucienne took delicate steps around her work space, an atrocious plastic tarp covering the floor where the Savonnerie replica had lain, to set a tray of tea and snacks down on the circular table in the corner of the room. Silverplated, she had noted with disdain. Real silver was nowhere to be found, despite the neatly marbled washroom and ample toile de Jouy fabrics all across the suite.

A rustle of cloth led Luci into the bedroom, where a mountain of blankets squirmed, some already halfway onto the floor. She huffed a little laugh as a black nose poked out from one of the folds. "Pardon, am I interrupting?" she asked, pulling a blanket away from her dog's face. A tilt of its head was the only answer. She arched a delicately plucked eyebrow and lifted it from the bed, then turned back to the sitting room, the dog's tail beating against her arm. "I remember giving you a job to do. If you could try to stay focused, s'il te plaît, I'll try not to lose my patience." The dog whined as she set it down on the floor. Lucienne tugged its heavy, patterned sweater off with care, one long ear flipped inside out. It spread its dark wings, wings attached to the thin body by a map of scars stretched over its spine and ribs. "Finish the circle before I've made myself presentable, Mousse. There's a long night ahead."