Work Text:
Knock. Knock.
Lucienne looked up from her desk. Who could that be at this time of night?
“Come in.”
Nuala burst through the door, her hair flying in all directions, a look of panic on her face.
“Lucienne, you’ve got to come help Gault! She’s stuck!”
“What the matter?” Lucienne asked urgently, putting down her pen and standing up to round the desk.
Slap. Slap.
A wet slapping noise resounded from the door. It creaked, swinging open slowly. Lucienne recognized the pink and teal on brown of Gault’s natural colouring before she could see her shape.
A huge, lumpy walrus.