Francine Peters

After yesterday, Francine was both a bit more relieved and a bit less; as usual, there were things people weren't saying so she wouldn't worry, because that ever worked.

So after Mythbusting, she headed down to the stables for some company that was the least complicated company ever.

And if she took advantage of the fact that Arthur wasn't around to grouse at her to bring that company some Frosty Paws, you are Not To Tell.

[OOC: expecting some electronic communications, but if you feel like wandering down to the stables and being slobbered on by the puppy, sure, open!]

Francine unlocked the door to her room after class and let out a "Katchoo?" that she couldn't quite keep from sounding hopeful, even though if Katchoo was here, they'd have to find another place to talk. There was nothing, though, and the other bed was still as empty as it had been when they moved to the cabins. ...Of people. Not of crap. It was Katchoo's bed.

"No Katchoo," she said quietly, beckoning Merlin in and dropping her books on her desk.

"She might be running late," Merlin suggested, looking at the other bed nervously.

"I guess." Francine eyed it as well, as she sat down on her own. ( Then it was Merlin she was eying. )

[Preplayed with the Ears again! NFI, OOC is fiiiine. *offers popcorn* That Merlin and Francine had an argument is fine for broadcast; the topic, not so much.]