"Well if I'm wrong..." Whirlwind said, pointing at the changeling before pausing, his happy expression falling, "Oh... oh dear." The lot of them were quiet after that, turning expectantly towards the door. There was no sound to be heard, no rumbling of the earth, no terrible voice to condemn them. The fire stayed where it was, bright and crackling and dancing. Someone inhaled as if to say something, but at that very moment the verdigris-covered doors opened. It was a strained, laboured opening, the sound of a long suffering hinges holding up a great weight as the doors swung away from the group.