Snippet #2434852

Thror looked about at the wide, double doorway. He sighed and thought back to better times. He caught scent of something cooking and swooned; this was certain to be the place. He wiped off a bit of drool that was about to make its way down his beard, shunning himself for that.
He looked back outside, his home for the last 7 years; then looked back at the inside of the mansion. He had no things with him, so the elegant but tall stairs would be little to him, despite his rather wide girth. Looking around, he saw that there seemed to have been little activity through the halls today, having seen few people come in today. He thought back to one poor soul who had been brought here in a wheelchair. He could only feel sympathy for her, losing things you had grown so accustomed to. Though, as he thought about it, her loss may have had more of an impact on her life than his had. He had overheard the man, Tayrik or something, tell the guests that the third floor was off limits. Not like Thror cared. He wanted a room on the first floor, as close to a dining area or kitchen as possible. He could just feel the warmth of a fresh cooked meal in his belly already.
He looked about, and saw a man near the stairs. Hoping to get a room and meal as soon as possible, he approached him hurriedly.