"Well...i-it wasn't the chicken's fault that it was angry." He scratched his cheek, abashed, before finding his key, unlocking the door, and motioning for Ursula to go ahead and come inside.

Not that there was much to the place. A bed, a small desk, a bookshelf; it was all kind of shabby and worn. The only thing that was impressive was the selection of alcohol and glasses.

"Please, make yourself comfortable."