The Beast was stretched out at the foot of the couch, and he was so large that his hind legs sprawled clear of one end even with his head on his front paws pulled close underneath him. His chin was turned up toward the ceiling, great chest (scored with long red marks from the scuffle the night previous) rose and fell perceptively, and he was breathing so heavily that it bordered on a snore. Even supine, his immense bulk nearly hid the form of the woman sleeping on the couch. Every once and a while the shining black nose would give a twitch under the influence of the strong scent of fresh rose petals that pervaded the apartment over the Beast's thick leonine musk. He was not fully aware to hear any trespass onto his domain--not yet.