Sappho is laughing: real brays of amusement, not the whistle-pop of her glubbed pastiches. "Oh my glubbing cod. I mean, I knew you were slumming, but.. with a redblood?"

You ignore her, stepping forward: Sipara's asking if you're ready, and you give a brisk nod, easier than chancing any irritation in your voice right now. Your roommate is an incorrigible irritation, but it's not your place to respond to it.

But ignoring her evidently isn't an option, either, because she claps a hand on your shoulder, her grip feather-light like she never even thinks you would shrug her off.

You'd like to say you considered it, but sweeps spent in the Academy have taught you that only one response is allowed. You freeze, your lusus stopping mid-step beside you, and she laughs.

"You minnow, I thought you were crazy, but now I get it."

"Um."

"Warmbloods are fun," she says appreciatively, showing her teeth. "You know what they say about a red sky at night?"

Sappho never seemed the sort to like lowbloods: certainly, she doesn't like you. You squint at her, but it's too dark to really see her expression, or much beside the amused press of her eyes and the sharp, white daggers of her teeth. "No? Well, you'll learn."

"I'll cover for you," she adds, "if get me her number."

You're. not entirely sure what just happened. "Okay," you say carefully. Agreeing is usually the best route. "Well. Goodbye."

Sappho is laughing as you open the gate, walk over to the bike, and climb into the sidecar. Your lusus hops in after you, doing a quick spin and then settling in your lap with ease.

"I'm ready," you tell Sipara. Your roommate is still watching you, a blur of pale gray against the muddy backdrop of your home. "Oh - and, um, Sappho wanted me to let you know that she said hello."