There must be nice white floors under all the mess here somewhere...but it's difficult to tell what's under the scraps of paper and tattered notebooks. Potted plants of various kinds crowd the desk, positioned against the window. The creatures doze in spots of sunshine or bat wads of paper across the floor. Each wears a name tag with a handwritten word, but the names seem more like nonsensical, incoherent sounds. How do you even pronounce that one? A scrap of coffee-stained paper is taped by the door frame and loopy cursive reads, "Gone to write about dragons. Leave a note!" You look around.