The house was dark and silent, except for the ticking of a wall clock in the hallway. From the front door, he could see into a living room on the left--clean, with small lantern lights strung along the ceiling and at least one squashy, patterned armchair--and beyond that, through a bar countertop, a kitchen. The front hallway was partly covered by a dark rug with large white flowers all over it; on the wall between the living room and kitchen, above a low bench with a patterned cushion, hung a tapestry featuring some kind of goat-headed god figure, standing on one leg and gesturing.

The stairs were paneled in different shades of wood. At the top, one door was open, and a soft pink-orange light was spilling out.

Hawk wandered quietly into the kitchen, glancing around, hands in his jacket pockets. There was a note laying on one of the placemats at the kitchen table, which was a simple wood thing set for two. Hawk picked up the note and found he had to struggle to read it, as the handwriting was such that to him every letter could've been something else. He made out, though: 'Your room is upstairs. Make yourself at home.'

A noise behind him made him glance back. There was a pet flap set in a door opposite the kitchen that had just stirred, but there was no animal in sight.

Hawk's room at the top of the stairs was small and tidy. The bed in the center was made, but not too crisply. The light beside the bed was an odd configuration, a paper lantern hung from the ceiling, its cord then running down the wall again behind the bedside table, which was just a small crate. There were a couple plants on the dresser and on an otherwise empty shelf. A glass door to the right looked out on a balcony.