[ might, to anyone else, say "shouldn't it be you making us tea?", but this is. Sholmes. so instead, she merely arches her brow and brushes past him, back into the cramped and gloriously busy main room. her luggage, she presumes, will be laying open where he fumbled through it for his gift—the hat of disguise.
as she perches on the chaise, her tail wraps around her ankle...
she hasn't yet remembered to put back on her own disguise. ]
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as she perches on the chaise, her tail wraps around her ankle...
she hasn't yet remembered to put back on her own disguise. ]
My heart is going so fast.