>Woof looks up and down the corridor.  He knocks again and listens at the
>door.
>
>With heart thumping, he reaches out to put his hand on the opening stud.  He
>stops and smiles to himself.  Why does he feel like he's doing something
>bad?
>
>He looks up and down the passageway again, then steels himself, puts his
>hand on the door knob, and tries to open the door.  If it is unlocked, he
>opens it a little bit, and sticks his head in, steaming mug and danishes
>held in one hand before him.  He looks around, expecting to see her asleep.
>
>[Is it dark?]

No lights are on.

>"Mira?"

"Mmmmrrrmmph."

>He takes the danish dish in one hand then blows on the steaming mug of
>coffee, blowing the fragrance into the room...
>
>In a singsong voice, he says, "It's me, Woof.  You awake?"

"Go away," comes a muffled response that sounds like she's talking into a 
pillow which she is.

>He comes on in, eyes trying to adjust to the light...

She's on the bed, a pillow over her head, her long red curls streaming out 
from under it. The way she has her arms folded over the pillow, she's 
either on her back, a hell of a contortionist, or both arms are broken ;P

Mira