Lucy walked into a room, the door sealing shut behind her. They were in a motel. Her apartment could be attacked since the other fox disguised as Percival would have discovered it had been tricked.
Percival's own apartment was gone. They needed a place to think, plan, and settle the turmoil in their hearts.
She exhaled, taking in a full view of the room. It was modest, scarcely large enough for a queen-sized bed, a walnut dresser, and a small table tucked beneath the window. Cream-coloured walls, worn smooth by years of fresh paint, reflected the soft glow of a bedside lamp.
A humming air conditioner rested beneath the window, while faded floral curtains framed the glass.
She tapped her foot on the carpet. It carried a muted scent of detergent. An average summoner would have failed to perceive it.
The only decoration was a landscape painting hanging above the headboard. Her eyes went to Percival.
