Thistle is taking a break from her most recent project to grab a soda from the fridge, when a whistling noise catches her attention.
At first it's faint, like the sound of air squeaking through a snoring nostril. Then, it grows louder. The bulbous kiln-fired nose, with the wires that curl out of the nostrils like coarse hair and connect to a device that only Thistle might have any clue of what pieces went into it, is making a whistling, snorting noise, now sounding like an elderly man waking from a snooze with congestion.