Fifteen...sixteen...seventeen... Ari had never been this way before. She knew to stay to the right, and lightly trailed one hand along the wall, feeling the doorframes. At step eighteen, she found room three. Four steps in, the tip of her cane hit against the low bed and she had a seat slowly, collapsing her cane and setting it beside her. She ran a hand through her tufted, feather-like hair, and took a sigh--Or what she could of one. Stupid trunk.