The heavy satchel eased off of his shoulder and fell to the floor with a loud thud. It was late. Very late. Moaning he scratched his forehead and felt the scruff of his unshaven beard. He'd have to do something about that. A cloud of dust hung around his feet due to the impact of his bag on the rug, though the current created by the open doorway behind him was quickly dispersing it.

Tiredly, he looked around his room, a thick film of dust covered everything. His leave of absence had taken him longer than he had expected. "Mulhorand... your secrets still elude us all." Ed whispered to himself as he moved over to his dresser. His fingers wrapped around the cool ivory handle of his hand-mirror.

He looked at himself. His room had stood unchanged (unless you count the dust), though he had changed. His finger traced then line of a scar on the side of his chin below his ear. His hair was scruffy, having not been touched by a comb--let alone washed--in weeks.

Pulling off his cloak, Ed let it fall on his dresser and looked around the room again. "I'm going to need to clean this up... tomorrow." He ran his hand against the door, preparing to close it.