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[sub][right][@Obsence Symphony][@Kestrel][@Hero][@Eleven][/right][/sub]

Clarissa most certainly did not squeak, flail, or in any other way panic when Jorah’s absurd personality instilled the insane idea to pick her up and [i]twirl[/i] her. She maintained her composure perfectly, ignoring the irritable flush crawling up her ears when Jorah kissed her forehead like she was some kind of child, and reached out to slap his arm for good measure as he skipped off to bother his next unfortunate victim. Goddess give her patience because if She gives her strength, Clarissa couldn’t guarantee Jorah would see the sunset. She sighed, watched him head over to their Professor, and then turned her attention to where a few of their classmates gathered out front the classrooms. At least Jorah took his job halfway seriously. She expected him to snatch up Raimund and cause trouble. 

But of course, [i]of course[/i], she spoke too soon. She’d written him off as out of trouble. The Professor was there after all. She could handle him. But her hand flew to her mouth, her other clutching at the simple silver necklace around her throat, when she heard that [i]tone[/i]. She just spoke of impropriety and then he has the utter audacity to… to… Clarissa fumed as she watched her friend. If looks could kill, Jorah would have dropped dead immediately. She knew Jorah brazenly flirted with any woman that caught his eye but their Professor?! Did he have no shame?! Despite his distaste for their politics and his adamantly expressed desire to quit them, the students still represented the Leicester Alliance and he was flirting with their Professor. The gall of this boy! 

Of course, she fully intended to march over there and snatch him away by the ear but a thought stopped her. It wouldn’t really be proper for her to deny them the full Jorah experience. After all, they did choose him to be House Leader and they would have to work with him closely for the foreseeable future. She couldn’t shield them all the time, right? That thought cooled Clarissa off quickly and as ugly as the motivation for that sentiment may be, it was true all the same. The sooner the Professor learned to shut Jorah down, the better for everyone involved. Clarissa put the situation out of her mind (wishing she could scrub her memory of it all) and returned her attention to their remaining classmates. 

She paused for a moment, considering Gloucester's adopted Almyrian. His presence still sent a shock of worry through her, a walking reminder of the threat if Duke Goneril’s distractions got the better of him, but circumstance forced them together too often for her to hold any of her old animosity towards him. Of course, she preferred him as his younger self; the apologetic, quivering mess he was but he’d grown into a confident [i]giant[/i] clearly influenced by his friendship with Jorah. And she’d never admit it but she appreciated that little fact. She doubted they’d both come out unscathed if Raimund was a Gloucester through and through. Nevertheless, he was her classmate for the time being and regardless of their outside affiliations, working together was imperative. 

Clarissa hurried over and curtsied when she reached Raimund. [color=FF650E]“My sincerest apologies for our abrupt abandonment; I hope we did not offend anyone. Jorah’s a demanding responsibility and he rarely considers his surroundings when his whims overwhelm his reason.”[/color] Clarissa explained with an apologetic smile. This was only a peak into Jorah’s regular behavior; if they couldn’t handle this, it would be a long year. [color=FF650E] “I’m glad to see you are doing well, Raimund. Jorah’s determining his future responsibilities but I don’t doubt you’ll command his full attention once he concludes his business. Although it surprised me, the three of us here almost feels like summers in Derdriu again."[/color] She'd admit the three of them together again dragged out a bit of nostalgia. The three of them getting into all sorts of mischief (always Jorah's fault no matter what anyone said) and spending hours on horseback in the woods around the capital were pleasant memories for the bad days.