Tanek's room could, quite generously, be called a creative chaos. (If you were less generous, you would just call it a mess.) It was not sloppy, per se: though the trash can was overflowing with candy wrappers, there were no scraps of food left out. The same went for clothes: most of it ended in or around the hamper in the corner. The mess was caused by books, scattered pieces of paper, notebooks, drawing supplies and plenty of half-finished, nearly-finished or not-even-closed to finished projects, varying from knitting and calligraphy to a clock that had been taken apart and Pokémon cards.
Tanek was working on a drawing almost feverishly and his room was, for once, empty of other Kitsune. His room was a hang-out for the odd souls who came there to work on their own projects but did not want to do so alone, or who wanted to watch movies on Tanek's computer, or who wanted some illicit weed. Tanek almost never smoked in his room, but when the temperatures were higher, people sometimes climbed from his window to sit on the roof and light one up.
He was on his bed, wearing a long-sleeved shirt but not pants, heating blasting on high. He looked up and realized he was working in the half-dark. "Hi Sorin," he said, brightness in his voice as he flicked on the light besides his bedstand. "How are you feeling? What kind of cookies?"