[Move to Aldrect when the event ends]
For what must have been the fourth... or fifth... hundred... time, Jordes wondered why she'd agreed to do this.
Was it a temper tantrum? A fit of unscheduled boldness? Another one of those strange whims that occasionally took her, like the time she decided to try eating at every Barakkan restaurant in Aldrect? (The war had put a stop to that, with a number of the restaurants' owners defecting back to the homeland in a fit of patriotism.) Maybe she thought, deep down, she never would've been selected. But her name was called at the end of the day, and now she had to go to a cafe and make nice with someone named Glinda and pretend to be charming and sweet and like this wasn't a total waste of time on either of their parts. She wasn't convinced that it wasn't.
In Stargoyle form, she lazily winged her way to Le Petit Renard. At least this date wouldn't be totally blind. She'd been to this cafe several times before, and the Fenling painted on the window, delicately sipping his cup of coffee, was a familiar sight.
She pressed the door open with a wing and lumbered inside, her tail clacking on the tiles behind her. Glinda... I need to find Glinda...
((I apologize for the dog-French. I tried to imagine what the French name for a Fenling might be and everything I wrote sounded dumb, so I just asked Google Translate what "The Little Fox" would be. I... I took Spanish in high school, what do you want of me? ;] ))