He found himself doing it every time he came back to the room. The key would fit the slot, the lock turning with the soft click, and the handle turning to let loose the door, it was then that the smell would hit him. As he stepped inside, he'd take a deep breath, taking in the smell - the scent of the dorm room; hints of bacon, odor of fur, some tints of spice, and the crisp inhale of vanilla.

The demon would take in the smell of the bacon - the monster boil's favorite food that he seemed to always have on stock regardless of how much of it they had gone through the day before and it was always on the pan in the morning. It was faint now, still lingering after the dishes were done with and put away, the smell was enough to bring hunger to the surface, especially after class or a session at the gym, enough to lure him to the kitchen and open the fridge. It was mouthwatering if the meat was actually present. He found himself sheltered considering the first time he ever had it was in a stint of depression and self-loathing at the academy and not at Cocytus Manor where he had access to specific foods. This? This breakfast meat? This meat of the euphoric kind? He would have traded the steaks he had regularly to have this from time to time. Not entirely true, maybe the halibut.

As Uru toed off his shoes, he would let his hands glide over the sea of fur that engulfed his ankles with yips and barks, tails wagging and wide eyes looking up with excitement and expectancy. The room was full of minipets, he expected no less after his first time here that the 'pack' would diminish - no, it grew. Each day, they would be at the door, waiting for the key came in, the lock turned, and the boils returned. Each day, they would crawl into their bed just before they slept. Each day, they would be shooed from the kitchen because of their insistent begging of their owner for food, in which, he would reply by filling their bowl with their own. Each day, he would come to find them all scattered around the room; among the couch, around the bed, roaming the kitchen, or in their closet where they found themselves sanctuary and offered their owner privacy from their fluff. Ontop of them, there was the Scruffle and the Soul Crusher and the Scareon that lounged around the room too. The odor was strong, but he expected nothing less from the owner.

The spice, it was difficult to put his finger on it. It was a combination of things that he could recollect as he made his way further into the room. There was the monster boil's tea, herbal and soothing. There was the way the boil made food that just filled the space with an aroma that made his wolf linger around the kitchen. There was the way that they kept the space clean and the method had a hint of a spice to it, sometimes it was fresh, other times it was spicy, other times it was unbearably strong that he secretly diluted the cleaner to tolerate it. There were downsides to his ability to smell.

Uru made his way into the closet as he stripped off his shirt, placing it into the hamper as he would normally. The hamper was almost full, though, he'd do the laundry at a later time. But even then, they had their own smell that lingered in the room; it wasn't just his sweat - which, he was sorry for and did his best to cover it as he could, it also smelled oaky. That was the only word he could coin for it; oaky. His clothes often had the smell of the Weeping Forest; the bark, the leaves, the brush, the smell of nature on it because that was where he ran most mornings. He could ignore the smell of sweat - the stress, the excitement, the exhaustion, and concentration solely on the smell of the woods that clung to him as he made his way back here. The owner wasn't home, so he had no issue stripping entirely and grabbing one of the towels that he insisted on keeping in the closet. Wrapping it around his waist, he moved to the bathroom. Oddly enough, it held no real scent that differentiated from the rest of the dorm room. Sure there was the lingering scent of mint of their toothpaste, or the aroma of their shampoo and conditioner. Though he didn't really pay any mind to it as he turned on the water and the room was steamed out.

With a sigh of relief, the demon flopped down onto his side of the bed. His scent. His scent was thickest here. The crisp smell like an intake of cold air that chilled the lung, the woody oak that clung to his nature runs, and the smell of vanilla. He attributed both due to his origins and the Fang Snare that he burned regularly when he covered up smells, or just to calm down - something to focus on. This was his side of the bed. Even though the monster insisted that he was free to come and go as he pleased, it was still the boil's place and that he was slowly encroaching - starting with his bed space. The closet was getting there. Rolling onto his back, he turned to look onto the boil's side of the bed. An inhale was all he needed to find that scent. It was strong, it was all over the dorm room that, if he wasn't looking for it or knew of it, he'd had assumed it was just the natural smell of the place. No, it was the boil's scent - a smokey smell that was a mixing pot of everything else; bacon, fur, spice, sandlewood, and sulfur.

It was strange, he was noticing that the monster had a certain rhythm to his step, the way his heart sounded. He didn't look up at the door whenever just any footsteps crossed the doorway. It was strange enough that he was able to notice that the pack's owner was almost to the door before they swarmed it. He didn't move to greet him, he normally stayed where he was, gave an affirmative glance; tight lip, a slight nod with his brows up, before going back to what he was doing. He should initiate conversation such as "How'd the day go?" or "What's the matter?" but he tended to sit silently before the talk of food came up or the boil struck up a conversation.


Uru huffed, pushing air through his nose as he rolled onto his side, the bed giving way under his bulk. There was a scent here that was not as strong as anywhere else; not the bed, not the closet, not the bathroom, not the kitchen or the doorway, but right here. This pillow. It was taken from the monster and he had also commandeered it, but the scent was unique among the others. With another in-and-out, the demon closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep.

He found himself doing this every time he returned to the room.