Val emerged from the drab basement room that she had turned into a laboratory with her leather bag and a stuffed rabbit. She couldn't remember the last time she had arrived ready to travel. She preferred the "throw all your stuff in a bag in a mad dash or miss your flight" approach. She had to pretend to pack though. Everyone else had vanished into their offices to pack or drink, she couldn't be entirely sure. Val suspected the grizzled Ranger had a secret supply of tequila. Maybe when they returned she'd figure out a way to liberate any booze hidden in his gun room.

She imagined that she could feel the weight of the gun in her bag. It made her nervous. She hated guns. She didn't want to have to kill someone. Val could feel that she was rapidly falling from the brief peak of horror that had become her morning of illicit magical substance use. She didn't like it, but she had to pace herself. Val saw no reason to talk to the others and simply collapsed into a corner of the couch as she wished for a swift death.

She missed the decked out appearance of the wizard she had decided to rename poser-Gandalf. Had she noticed, Val would doubtlessly have asked him more than one pointed question about the best way to explode a bad guy, but she was too tired to pay attention. She restrained a brief desire to murder Clive. She didn't think Ellie would accept loud chewing as reason for defensive magic of the offensive variety. Instead the young alchemist busied herself with her stuffed rabbit. 

The brown rabbit had seen better days and was a patchwork of mismatched fabric and assorted threads. Sir Thomas, as Val had named him, was a brave knight. The greatest knighted rabbit in all the land. The only one in fact. And he had been tasked by King Arthur himself to find the Holy Grail. A quest he had dutifully attempted to complete for several centuries.

Val was unsure what her colleagues or more importantly her therapist would say about the extremely detailed and lengthy biography she had created for Sir Thomas. She doubted it would be good. For some reason professionals tended to look down on the idea of keeping stuffed animals in your office. However, they'd just have to indulge her. She loved traveling, but she she hated airports. They reminded her of the suburbs. A place she considered a minor rendition of some infernal plane. Nerves. She could feel her nerves firing much too fast. She didn't like the pit she felt in her stomach. She wanted to cry, but she knew better.