You tug at Abigail’s sleeve. “I think that while that boy might be okay, and Wuffles is nice, we should spend more time with New Friend Charlotte first. She’s already a friend so she’s more important than some boy.”

“Hey!” Everette says.

“I, um, I think Dreamer is right. No-not that you’re bad or anything, Mister Everette,” Abigail says, her arms waving around in negation. “It’s just that I don’t think we can really help you much with your problem.”

“But I just have a few questions. It won’t take much of your time,” Everette begins.

The three of them, Everette, Charlotte and Abigail, start talking, but it’s boring so you stop listening. Instead you step over to Wuffles who growls at your approach. “No biting now Wuffles. Your master would be sad at you if you did that,” you tell him.

He stops, but still doesn’t look very happy.

Reaching up, you begin to sing a little song to make him more happy, because Abigail sings sometimes and they make you happy. “This is your snooter," You sing as you pat the top of Wuffle's nose. It makes a hollow fump-fump noise. "It is good for snooting. This is your booper," you continue to sing as you boop Wuffle's booper. "It is good for boo--" Wuffle growls and bites your hand again. Blood starts pouring down his mouth as he chews. "Wuffles no! I wasn't done with my song!"

You hear gasps from behind you and the next thing you know Everette is prying Wuffle’s mouth open and Abigail is pulling you back. “Dreamer, you got bitten!” she says.

You both know that it doesn’t really matter, but she still fusses over your hand. You’re not even missing any fingers this time.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Everette says.

“You ought to be,” New Friend Charlotte says as she waggles a finger under his nose. “This kind of behaviour from a familiar reflects quite poorly on its summoner. Do you want to make us think that you’re little more than a rabid dog yourself?” she asked.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Everette backs away from Charlotte even though she’s two heads shorter than him. Maybe its the big cone hat that’s making her look imposing?

“Hmph,” Charlotte says before spinning around with a swish of robes. “Abigail, I wouldn’t want to impose, but I believe leaving now would be for the best.”

“Ah, yes, yes of course. Goodbye, Mister Everette,” Abigail says as she pulls you along and down the corridor again, Charlotte by your side.

“Are you well, Dreamer?” Charlotte askes. “If someone were to bite my Web I would be inconsolable.”

“Your Web?” Abigail asks as you keep moving.

Charlotte points to a small room with a plaque before it that reads infirmary. She pushed the door open and looks around, but it’s unoccupied. “I think we can take some bandages. If anyone complains... well, this is what the infirmary is for,” she says as she moves around to some cabinets and starts looking for things. She eventually pulls out some white cottony things with magic circles sewn into them and little pouches on the sides. “Web is my familiar. She’s been with me this whole time.”

“Is she invisible?” you ask?

Charlotte smiles. “Nope, just sneaky. Place your hand here.” she says, patting the bed.

A bit of moving around later and Charlotte has wiped the bite marks clean and presses a bandage over them. She activates the circle woven into it and with a flash and a sizzle you feel the flesh around your hands knit back together.

“That was warm,” you say.

Charlotte pats your head. “You were very brave,” she says. “And Abigail too. I thought you would faint for a moment there,” she says as she tucks away the equipment into a bin near the door. “It shouldn’t take more than a day or two for that to stop feeling warm. Give it a week and you won’t even be able to tell that you were hurt at all.”

“Thank you so much, Charlotte,” Abigail says.

“Nonsense!” Charlotte says. “What are probationary friends for?”

For some reason Abigail thinks that that is very funny. You don’t understand. Of course friends are just servants that Abigail gets along with, that the entire reason you let them stay near her.

“Should we go see those club listings again?” she asks.

“If you want,” Abigail says. “I feel like I’ve been a very poor probationary friend so far.”

“Well then you can make it up to me by helping find a club we’ll both enjoy!”

In no time at all all three of you are by the front lobby of the Academy, a huge room with a big marble staircase and a long, long desk at the front manned by an entire team of secretaries who wear little bonnets. There are rotating displays with colourful pamphlets that Charlotte eyes for a moment before picking a few and moving outside.

It’s warmer out there than inside the Academy, and you soon find yourselves moving to a nearby hill that’s deserted except for a bunch of yummy looking pigeons and a lone picnic table. Abigail and Charlotte sit next to each other, so you climb onto the table and sit on it with your legs between the two.

Charlotte lays out the list of clubs flat on her lap. “There are quite a few. Some are men or women only, unfortunately.”

“That’s okay,” Abigail says. She points to one on the list. “My best friend Daphne is in the Gardening Club. She’s a year ahead of us.”

Charlotte places a hand over her mouth. “Oh my. I didn’t think you... well, nevermind. I’m not inclined that way, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t like gardening either. My job gets my hands dirty enough without me sticking my fingers in the mud.”

Charlotte is blushing faintly as she looks away and pulls out pen and paper from her purse. “We can draw up a list of those clubs that interest us, then pick out those that we’re both interested in. From there we can pick out a final result we’ll both be happy with, or maybe a shortlist of clubs to visit.”

“That’s very... methodical.”

“Best to do things right the first time,” Charlotte says. A few moments of scribbling later and she has an entire list drawn up, two columns with Abigail’s choices on the one side and Charlotte’s on the other. A bit of reorganizing leaves them with a smaller list.

You, of course, yoink it away. “I get to pick?” you ask as you look over the choices.

The girls look at each other and shrug as one. “Might as well,” Charlotte says. "At least we can go see what they’re like.”

“That sounds fair,” Abigail says.

You grin as you set out to make your choice.