Nadia had had some sleep, caffeine, a shower, and food, and was feeling much less ducklike more human by the time Sunday afternoon rolled around.
So she was sitting in the common room, wrapped up in a blanket, staring out the window at the snow and pouting.
On the one hand, she was really glad that she'd gotten back from the preserve yesterday and that Walter didn't have to come get her. On the other . . .
Chad was in Mexico where it was warm and people spoke Spanish, and she was here, looking out at a bunch of snow coming down rather hard from the sky.
Not fair. Not fair at all.
[ooc: open]