Nishka was partway through unpacking an old and wounded, leather suitcase when she heard a noise that did not belong there. "Brrrr-ring! Brrrr-ring!" She could feel a tug at her thigh and knee as her tail tried to lash out anxiously. But for now, it was trapped in place.<br/><br/>She checked her veil to make sure that her face was sufficiently covered, and then peeked out through one of the dirty and dusty windows. "Hello?" she asked nervously. Maybe the realtor came back. Or maybe he dropped his phone before he left. Maybe.<br/><br/>She cautiously opened the front door, and stepped out onto the covered porch. "Hello," she asked again, following the strange ringing to it's source. The heavy wooden door clasped shut behind her.