Possessing more windfalls than they know what to do with, all picked up in their immediate neighbourhood, my Lycosae have built themselves donjon-keeps the like of which their race has not yet known.
Around the orifice, on a slightly sloping bank, small, flat, smooth stones have been laid to form a broken, flagged pavement.

The larger stones, which are Cyclopean blocks compared with the size of the animal that has shifted them, are employed as abundantly as the others.
On this rockwork stands the donjon.

It is an interlacing of raphia and bits of wool, picked up at random, without distinction of shade.

Red and white, green and yellow are mixed without any attempt at order.

The Lycosa is indifferent to the joys of colour.
The ultimate result is a sort of muff, a couple of inches high.