[Sorry, cats, it's survival of the fittest in these parts. But Anders doesn't seem any more inclined to make room for them, either, quite comfortable where she is, socks long forgotten under her sitting room table somewhere behind her.
These sorts of things aren't supposed to have rules, are they? They're allowed to flop out on the floor in their bare feet, and eat with their fingers, and drink out of the bottle if they want to.]
What else do we need for one of these? The Circle didn't exactly teach a person the proper procedures for a sleepover. [Thoughtfully, she rotates her ankle where it's trapped under her knee.] I have food. And cards. And alcohol, of course. We can always get more of those--and more people.
[Except Rutherford's not allowed unless Anders gets to shave her head.]
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These sorts of things aren't supposed to have rules, are they? They're allowed to flop out on the floor in their bare feet, and eat with their fingers, and drink out of the bottle if they want to.]
What else do we need for one of these? The Circle didn't exactly teach a person the proper procedures for a sleepover. [Thoughtfully, she rotates her ankle where it's trapped under her knee.] I have food. And cards. And alcohol, of course. We can always get more of those--and more people.
[Except Rutherford's not allowed unless Anders gets to shave her head.]