That must have suited Claudia just fine, because she beamed and let out another squeal of happiness as she spun around and set out to make this space her own as well. This one, at least, had furniture. Claudia would not say it was otherwise particularly desirable, there wasn't any art to contemplate, nor even a fire to try to warm her icy veins, and as she stepped away from the perfume of the flowers she had to wrinkle her nose, finally breathing the scent of so much life and not enough people cleaning up after it. She would take it anyhow. Maybe she could get used to a home that wasn't dead.