Juna told absolutely no one about the date, yet somehow the whole estate knew by breakfast.
Loccy baked a pie with a tiny wolf drawn on the crust, humming so happily that Juna wanted to scream. Ferra found a hundred reasons to polish her gauntlets in the front hall, all of them directly in Juna's path.
"It's just dinner," she snapped at the pie, "nobody needs to make a ceremony out of it."
Vella leaned over the stair rail, "Of course it's just dinner, dear, that's why you've brushed your tail four times."
"I did not."
"Five times," Loccy corrected helpfully, "I counted."
Ferra thrust a small crescent pin at her without looking up, "It's nothing, I had scrap silver left over."
"It's... pretty," Juna muttered, turning it over in her fingers.
"It's a well-made pin, that's all it is," Ferra grumbled, turning pink to the ears.
