Azrael struggled to his own feet with bruised dignity, his pupil dilating as he looked around. He flexed his wings, tested his paws, making sure he hadn't hurt himself in the fall.
He raised his head, his nostrils flaring as he breathed deep, the scent twining around him headily and making his fur stand just a little on end, a ripple of contentment settling through him. This place was somewhere he could call home - surrounded by peace and the echoes of a culture long dead, the comforting smell of death.
He felt a small phantom itch in his missing leg and his ears pinned back suddenly as he was reminded - My- Moving as quickly as he was able, he limped back out the door and pawed through the leaves for his bone, picking it up gently in his jaws before carrying it back inside and setting it inside the doorway. "Your ancients were very much fond of riddles, it seems," he said, ease settling through him now that he had it close again. "I saw a third eye just before I accidentally stepped on it. That must have been what opened the door."
