At first, Lars thought it was Mercury and Pluto arguing with the intercom on again. The familiar sound of their frighteningly senile shofars was always floating through the air from somewhere in the King Tutt, like the place was haunted (the horrors to come if either of the two bags died here though, no doubt).  But they sounded awfully loud though, and uncannily close? Like they were practically right beside her… 

Lars stole a glance—one tiny, little, paranoid glance at her birds and then practically snorted from laughing so hard so suddenly. Her birds babble had always been entertaining, but this was downright hilarious. The little witch curled into herself between bouts of laughter, knowing full well now who was responsible for her poor birds’ sudden voice over (if the familiar sounding laughter two seats over was any clue). It took her a good second, especially after Gar’s (or should she say Pluto’s?) last comment, but Lars eventually managed to calm her diaphragm long enough to reach down and pull her wand from inside her boot. One mumbled incantation and a quick wrist twist later, and the two presently confused birds were back to squawking unintelligibly into the air. Lar’s turned her attention to the true culprit then, a wide grin stretching across her face. 

“You know, you’re really lucky neither of those two feather heads have held a grudge against you yet.” She announced to the younger wizard, who was currently laughing behind some poor girl. Jules was an underclassman, and a part of both Tituba and MCC, so Lars knew and got along with the kid fairly well. The jokes weren’t anything new either, and only the tip of what she hoped would be an iceberg of fun this year. 

“When the heck did you get on the Tutt?” She asked then, done with her laughter and suddenly amazed that she hadn’t seen him around until now. This place was large, yes, but not too large that you couldn’t spot a familiar face if you frequented it enough. Maybe she’d been on this bloody road trip a bit too long.