Nahadnowen was still outside, stranded without the ability to turn the door handle, watching Yashoku behind the partial cover of his suitcases. He was puzzled when the human left CJ's room, only to return a short time late. What Yashoku did next sent the lungfish into a state of alarm: his shadow seemed to creep under the door independent of his body, which abruptly vanished altogether.<br/><br/>The fish couldn't believe his eyes. He possessed supernatural abilities of his own, but as he was suspicious of Yashoku to begin with, his first assumption was that the human had used this power with the plan to carry out some secret, malicious act.<br/><br/>What should I do? What can I do? The lungfish looked up and down the hall, seeing no other students nor open doors. Should I alert an authority? The Resident Advisor? But will they listen to me? What if they're busy? What if they're somewhere else right now? What if it takes them to long to reach--<br/><br/>Cursing his burdensome misfortune, Nahadnowen levitated timidly toward the door. All the while, his instincts urged him to stop, go back, ignore the occurence, make someone else deal with it. Nonetheless, these mental warnings did not keep him from peeking through the narow gap under the door. He employed what senses he could--sight, smell, electro-reception, and rudimentary hearing--to gather any information he could about what Yashoku meant to do, and how, or why.