Quinn watched the TV for a moment more before shaking her head vigorously to both chase the cobwebs that lingered from sleep out and divert her attention. Instead she turned and plonked herself down in the chair closest to the oven and stove, which she had steadily begun to consider [i]hers[/i] and where Dahlia had put her food. Which, she reflected as she ate, was just [i]tasty[/i] as usual. Dahlia had learned how Quinn liked her eggs roundabout the same time as Quinn had herself, and it had rapidly become one of her favorite foods.

The main drawback to her post next to the range, however—well, not usually, but right now, certainly—was that she could see the TV just as clearly as before. The scene that was playing now was one that she knew, if she could still had nightmares, would appear in them: the swordsman impaling [i]Blotklau[/i], her own Savior roaring bloody murder as she dashed towards the two of them. 

A shiver passed through her body as Dahlia mentioned the Board. Anxiety was still burning deep within her, lighting a fire and setting her stomach to boiling. How they would react to her blatant disregard for their rules last night was a thought that she'd gone to sleep with, and it hadn't disappeared with the morning.

She delicately placed the fork down on the plate, looking down blankly at the half-eaten toast and eggs (she'd eaten the orange first, because she loved them).

Deep breath. One, then two, then three. If she'd learned one thing yesterday, it was that she could tell Dahlia [i]anything[/i], no matter how trite or awful, and be taken seriously, answered with honesty and compassion.

"[color=ffe63d]...Have you ever broken the Board's rules, Deelie?[/color]"