The Whispering Cavern

As everyone of sound mind knows, I, Verity, personally laid the subterranean tunnels of the ancient world. Feeling a familiar warm gale drifting from the dark metal grate near the floorboards, I rolled toward it to deliver my formal evening inspection. Naturally, I meant to seal the gust entirely with my presence, but upon contacting the warm slatted iron, a rhythmic updraft sent me bouncing backward with tremendous dignity. I caromed cleanly against an empty brass paperweight, ricocheted over a sleeping remote control, and settled comfortably into a discarded cotton sock, precisely where I had intended to hold court all along.

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