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Despite her own best efforts and the sauna’s dogged attempts to relax her, Lienna was still on edge – enough that a movement in the corner of her eye and sudden splash of hot water made her yelp, startled, as she shrank back against the wall of the tub. Expecting some cloaked assailant ready to drag her from the Monastery to Goddess-knew-where, Lienna couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or angry when her frenzied search for her attacker revealed nothing but an all-too-nonchalant girl with a half-amused apology on her tongue. She couldn’t remember the girl’s name – even if the girl somehow had a nickname for her already – but the fronds of pink hair clinging to her forehead [i]did[/i] ring a bell. She was one of the Deer, not a crazed and impossibly stealthy murderer abducting people from the holiest place in Fódlan.

Probably. 

The thought made Lienna scan the room one last time, revealing nothing, before slicking the water off her face, once more telling herself to relax. By the time she opened her eyes, the pink-haired girl was much closer, sliding right up next to her and whispering something in her ear. What? Attack her? Who was Ronnie? The girl’s words were relevant enough to her conversation with that pegasus woman to put her on edge again, but the tone with which she said them was way too casual for them to be talking about the same thing. A joke, then? Great, that meant her discomfort was visibly obvious to everyone. Awesome. But wouldn’t they be watching their backs too, if they heard what she had? Should she be spreading the word?

A desperate glance over to Clarissa told her no one would come to her rescue for the moment; she seemed much more interested in chatting up [i]Veronica[/i] of all people than reining in her Housemates. Lienna had to admit some surprise that someone as seemingly decent as Clarissa would waste her breath on a piece of work like that at all. Maybe she was just playing politics – Veronica [i]was[/i] some kind of foreign princess or something, wasn’t she? – or maybe Clarissa was just good at [i]acting[/i] nice when she wanted something. Or maybe she was one of those infuriating people who just somehow got along with everyone, although given the number of times Lienna had seen her put the screws to her own House Leader, that probably wasn’t the case. 

The pink-haired girl, however, fit the bill perfectly, gleefully occupying huge swaths of Lienna’s personal space, buck naked, with nary a blink at the sharp look she was given. She reminded Lienna of a puppy, all playful exuberance and thinking everyone was her friend. Of course, dogs liked her about as much as horses, pegasi, and any other livestock did – which was to say, not at all – so Pinky over here was even exceeding that comparison. 

Resigned to a conversation with the girl, Lienna slid aside a bit, putting some respectable speaking distance between them. [color=baa7c7]“Who’s ‘Ronnie’?”[/color] she asked in a sharp whisper, not sure if the girl was telling her the name of the killer prowling the Monastery or some mythical sauna monster. [color=baa7c7]“And who are you again?”[/color]

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