Some of the Exiles, himself included, had moved into the new suites that Damion's minions had modeled. They were nice, even if his private space was shared with someone who didn't seem to fond of him (sadly), Cody was grateful for the opportunity to perhaps get closer to his brother as well... although it seemed that Breakout wouldn't have much choice in socialising unless he wanted to sleep on the cold floor. That was enough on his more selfish thoughts however, with more neighbors moving in by the day it only felt right to offer them some sort of a welcome package and perhaps host a celebration fit for a king - a day without seeing guts and smelling death could probably do his health a favour as well. With banners hung up everywhere around the newly renovated wing (most of which having some sort of ass-backwards spelling of 'welcome' and 'home sweet home' splayed across them), no cell entrance seemed to be safe from the multi-coloured decorations. A table was missing from Cell 3, placed neatly in the middle of the corridor with foods and drinks both healthy and unhealthy practically spilling over the wood and onto the floor.
The abundance was not isolated, for beneath them lay small furniture items to help make the cells look nicer. Jewellery boxes, antlers, dreamcatchers, fireflies in a jar, some flowers, anything minor that the Exiles might've thought decent looking could be found, though one might have to mind the odd crumb that fell atop of them when the table was interfered with. It wasn't the nicest looking party in the world, but Cody figured that a shabby get together would fit a shabby place quite nicely... not that he meant that in a terribly harsh way. Once it was all complete, the lupine decided not to call for some company, instead laying down towards the entrance of the prison wing. His paw was draped over his muzzle, almost ashamed that he was panting - running around like a headless chicken trying to find supplies should not have been as tiring as it was. The Saboteur would probably display a bit more energy once he'd caught his breath and his legs no longer burned for rest, for now he'd just delegate himself to being a door greeter to anyone who were lucky enough to pass by.