Room 415, Wednesday Morning

[seeks_truth]

Cassandra woke up early, as she did every morning, and rolled over so that she may leave the bed, as she did every morning, and then crashed to the floor in a flurry of hooves and tail and other such nonsense.

"Maker!"

She scrambled up to her-- legs, breathing harshly, eyes big. "What magic is this?!" she snapped, staring down at her front hooves. She padded around in a circle, attempting to get some impression of her ordeal. "Andraste's--"

She neighed. Loudly. Angrily.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

The bloody island!

[[ closed door, open post! ]]

Comments

[gavegoodface]

"I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to stab the squirrels even if they are scaly."

[seeks_truth]

"It's merely a defensive measure," Cassandra retorted. "In case they get... ideas."

[gavegoodface]

"They're too small to carry off maidens or livestock...or anyone who's currently both."

[seeks_truth]

"They are also rodents with a habit of getting terribly drunk," Cassandra pointed out.

[gavegoodface]

"Hard to get drunk when you're likely to set the booze on fire."

Face, that was not a better outcome.

[seeks_truth]

"And that would be another good reason to keep an eye on them," Cassandra pointed out.

[gavegoodface]

"I suppose that could end badly."

[seeks_truth]

"You suppose," Cassandra said dryly.

She heaved a sigh. "With any luck, this will be over by nightfall," she said, "And we will not have to worry overmuch about the destruction these dragon-squirrels might cause."

Well, she. She would not have to worry.

[gavegoodface]

Well, she'd be half right in that she wouldn't have to worry about the dragon-squirrels...

"Yeah, it's usually only the weekends where it sticks around very long." Usually.

[seeks_truth]

"I suppose we should be relieved it is a weekday, yes," Cassandra allowed. "But this remains very inconvenient."