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Message: <blockquote data-quote="izillama" data-source="post: 4800895" data-attributes="member: 79171">Clover remained quiet, staring pointedly at Koln. She only let him think that he was in charge, much like a cat lets the dog thinks it has the run of the house. But when the owner comes home and finds things askew, who does he blame?She nodded along with Koln's plan. She had wanted to see what the big deal was with this house for some time now. Clover didn't believe in ghosts, so the idea of a haunted house was ridiculous. There had to be another explanation. There always was. She felt for the deck of playing cards, resting peacefully in the bottom of her bag, smirking ruefully.'Smoke and mirrors.'But as for the problem of the bank hours (and the unpredictability of weather), Clover had her own idea. It involved Mindy and a very cleverly concocted bottle of red. 'Koln's going to murder me.'As the bus pulled up, she quietly fell in line behind her two friends, allowing them to sit together on one side of the aisle while she took up one seat on the other. She heard herself giggle slightly at the idea of herself as a cat. Only this time, she decided that Koln was more of a mouse than a dog. Or perhaps a rat? There was Socrates to consider after all. The dog, Ruby, will have the run of the house. The rat, Koln, will bask in its freedoms. But the cat, Clover, will sit and watch from afar, controlling the actions of the other two like naive marionettes. 'To Emerson's we go.'</blockquote>

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