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In the deepest reaches of the Ghoul's Den, far below the floors of the Ministry, the most reserved amongst the ghouls, Rain has made his home. Over the years, Rain has curated his secluded corner of the Ghoul's Den to look like something out of the catacombs beneath the opera house in Phantom of the Opera, which may or may not have been his inspiration. He prefers the light of candles, the waterlogged statues, the accumulation of moss, the humidity… Well, he tries his best to keep the humidity out of his room for the sake of his books.
With the tour having come to a close, Rain is beyond relieved to be home, to retreat to the sanctity of his chambers. He's long since settled in and gotten back into the rhythm of life back home, having unpacked, and now organizing the books he had gotten on tour onto his shelves. He's just set the last book into place when he hears something behind him.
Rain's tail stills in its languid sway and he looks over his shoulder, pushing his hair out of his eyes to search for the source of the sound. "Hello?" He calls out, listening for the slightest sound.
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