It was two hours past noon, and Phoenix had already surged past her forties. Her bones felt heavier, her skin looser, and her clothes tighter. In another few more hours, she anticipated, her shrinking body would give her more room to breathe. Ah, the burden of old age. 

As they approached the seemingly dilapidated building, Phoenix questioned the structural integrity of the ramshackle, dirty thing. It wouldn't come as much of a surprise for her if the only thing that was keeping it aloof were the huge mass of clinging ivy dominating practically a whole front section of the mansion. Briskly, Phoenix skipped ahead of the others. Avrak was, at the moment, nowhere to be seen. 

The large double doors of the mansion loomed before her. She was now standing upon the front verandah, regarding with interest the musky odor which had wafted out the moment she had taken a step forward. One of the doors, she noticed, had been left slightly ajar. Ever so slightly ajar. With a tentative hand, she nudged it open and peered into the gloom. Uncertain, she looked back at Avrion and waited for his signal to go-ahead. Meanwhile, she summoned Avrak, who swiftly landed on her outstretched arm with a grumpy squawk. He had been lounging around on the roof of the mansion prior to the group's physical arrival. 

"We could use a little light," Phoenix grinned. 

Moments later, Avrak's crimson-red feathers started to glow, first casting light into the shadows as a muted flame, before building up into a bright, eerie brilliance. To those who didn't know better, the most accurate description of him would be that resembled a living, breathing furnace - with wings. Phoenix supposed that she could send him in there first to light the way for the group, but Avrak was her most precious weapon. So she waited.