Indeed, it was a perfectly regular dwelling, a fact by itself at least A LITTLE BIT INTRIGUING, considering the current localization.

It wasn’t a big house. In fact, it only consisted in what appeared to be a small living room… or a small everything-room, to broad the semantic spectrum more appropriately. There were a dinner table and a small stove, and long shafts full of the most varied paraphernalia, from books to pots full of unknown substances.

If Mr. Rabbit was there, he would probably have said that was the house of an exccentric, to not say CRAZY, person.

Funnily enough, to Max it reminded a little bit of Meryl the Mole’s house. Although less cozy, and definetely messy.

But he thought his friend wouldn’t partake of the amuse of such comparison.

“jeez! what a messy house! it takes only a really exccentric to live in such conditions! hoho, to not say CRAZY. max, can you please turn on the lights?”

Max wasn’t exactly FAMILIAR with the dwelling’s geography to attend their friend’s demmand, but he tried regardless.

But, before he could even FIND the lightswitch, the lights turned on its own.

And, to their uncalculable horror, a voice welcomed them, and I fear no -o-METER existent in the world would be able to calculate their dread.

“Welcome, travellers.”

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