By common consent, they leave the "Parisian" room with no tug of homesickness to call them back.
The next key on the ring is for Room 208: the Pony Room. Combeferre was always fond of horses, so he thinks this might not be a terrible fit.
They go in. His customary open-mindedness helps him in the adjustment process, as he changes his mind immediately. It's red, but not the red of roses, or of blood, or of cherries, or of Bahorel's waistcoats. It's an odd red not found in nature. And it's everywhere. There's no respite, no bit of calm.
Also, there's a horse in the middle of the room. Combeferre scrutinizes it. "Are we meant to sit on it?"
no subject
The next key on the ring is for Room 208: the Pony Room. Combeferre was always fond of horses, so he thinks this might not be a terrible fit.
They go in. His customary open-mindedness helps him in the adjustment process, as he changes his mind immediately. It's red, but not the red of roses, or of blood, or of cherries, or of Bahorel's waistcoats. It's an odd red not found in nature. And it's everywhere. There's no respite, no bit of calm.
Also, there's a horse in the middle of the room. Combeferre scrutinizes it. "Are we meant to sit on it?"
That might be rather...fun.