The initial awe at Marshall's room quickly morphed into something less pleasant. Skye, ever the trendsetter, couldn't resist a final jab. "The red lights are a bit much, Marshall. Don't you know they're bad for your eyes?"
Rubble piped up next, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, and that skull bedding? Talk about morbid." He shuddered dramatically.
Zuma, ever the optimist, tried to lighten the mood. "Maybe we can all have sleepovers in here? Imagine, cuddling on the dragon rug!"
But Marshall's smile faltered. He'd anticipated some playful teasing, but the relentless negativity stung. Before he could retort, Chase, the resident rule-enforcer, spoke up.
"Marshall," he began, his voice stern, "all this technology... video games, giant TVs, it's not good for you. You need to be outside, being active!"
The dam broke. Marshall, fed up with their disapproval, lashed out. "This is my room!" he shouted. "My space! I can decorate it however I want, and I can play as many video games as I like! It's not your business!"
Turning on his heel, Marshall stormed into his room, slamming the door shut behind him. The other pups, taken aback by his outburst, exchanged bewildered glances.
They weren't used to this new, assertive Marshall. The goofy, compliant Marshall they knew seemed to have vanished, replaced by this rebellious teenager.
They tried the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. The red light beside it pulsed mockingly. A sign above the doorknob read: "Fingerprint Scanner Only."
A collective groan went up from the pups. Their plan to invade Marshall's room and critique his "inferior" taste had backfired spectacularly.
Suddenly, Everest, who had been unusually quiet throughout the whole ordeal, stepped forward. Her fur bristled, her voice taking on a surprisingly sharp edge.
"Guys," she said, her gaze sweeping over the disappointed pups, "don't you get it? He's growing up. He wants his own space, his own style. It's not about you, or your opinions."
Her gaze lingered on Chase, a challenge in her eyes. "And for your information, Chase, I think it's pretty cool. It's bold, it's different – just like Marshall."
Chase, flustered, stammered a reply, but Everest wasn't finished. Turning back to the door, she addressed Marshall directly, her voice softer now. "Hey, Marshall," she called out, "Don't listen to them. Your room looks awesome. If you ever get bored in there, you know where to find me."
A faint blush crept up Marshall's cheeks as he heard Everest's voice. He pressed his paw against the fingerprint scanner, and the door silently slid open. He cast a triumphant look at the dejected pups outside before disappearing back into his haven.
The other pups, left stranded in the hallway, looked at each other sheepishly. Their playful teasing had backfired. They hadn't anticipated how deeply Marshall felt about his new room, or how much Everest seemed to like it.
Maybe, just maybe, it was time to accept that Marshall wasn't a little pup anymore. He was a teenager, discovering his own style, his own voice. And maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing after all.
