Anna and Ariel, Gingers to the Death
"Deal," Ariel replied quickly, at the tail end of her friend's display of violence to the unsuspecting end table and vase. Oh, she wasn't judging - break all the things, Anna, it was actually pretty therapeutic at this rate.
Now the path before them was covered in a mosaic of sharp glass, the edges shimmering under the limited light. If she wasn't so damn cranky, she'd comment on how eerily pretty it was, but she wasn't wasting time standing around and admiring a disaster. "Should have brought that bottle of whatever boozey thing we had, even if it was really gross," she grumbled, approaching the first upcoming door they found. "It at least kept us--ahh!" Speaking about warmth, be careful what you wish for. The golden doorknob was searing hot and Ariel quickly jolted back, holding her hand against her chest. "Ow! Never mind, next door."