There was a soft chime from the intercom at the door, and Mallory sighed, debating whether or not she felt like answering it. Tanya had designed their headquarters for function, not form, and the large, airlock-styled doors weren't exactly made for knocking on.
The upside was that you always knew who was on the other side of the door's intercom.
In this particular case, I can probably already guess.
She nibbled at a hangnail absently, caught herself doing it, and scowled, irritated at her lapse.
Nervous habits were always the worst to kick.
She padded over to the door in her socks, the cool metal of the floor seeping into her with each step, and squashed the temptation to ask who it was.
The door slid open with a soft whir at her touch, and she restrained a little sigh at the older drake standing in the hallway. "Duke."