Room 505, Thursday Night
So it turns out that punching a tree? Kinda stupid. SAM. Which was why the girl with her chin buried in the fur of a hunting hound (that she was still allowed to call a puppy because...YOUR FACE) looked like she was flipping people the bird if they walked past the half-open door. It wasn't them; it was just the splint. ...Okay, it was also the mood. But still not them.
Brynne, unsurprisingly, was very good at cuddling; Owain...tried to be? But there was a reason the owl on the bed was currently cuddling with Francine's birthday present (whose name was apparently Agravaine, according to -- well, that thought wasn't depressing, was it) instead of Francine.
Look, she wasn't letting them spend the night in the stables tonight, shut up. Also, just... shut up.
[OOC: Open but emo. Last post before Francie heads off for the backpacking trip, but probably not the last post in Fandom.]
Brynne, unsurprisingly, was very good at cuddling; Owain...tried to be? But there was a reason the owl on the bed was currently cuddling with Francine's birthday present (whose name was apparently Agravaine, according to -- well, that thought wasn't depressing, was it) instead of Francine.
Look, she wasn't letting them spend the night in the stables tonight, shut up. Also, just... shut up.
[OOC: Open but emo. Last post before Francie heads off for the backpacking trip, but probably not the last post in Fandom.]