Warren Worthington III

Karla was entertaining some aristo ladies in one of the many smaller rooms at the estate, five older matriarchs who were trying to convince her that they should really and truly be exempt from the ban on Arcerian cat fur. For reasons, both sartorial and financial. That they had, that were really something other than 'we want to be.'

For her own part, Karla was imagining this conversation happening with Kaelas sitting on the lounge beside her. It was the only thing making this afternoon tea less tedious.

The sound of raised voices drew her attention away from the lady droning in front of her. She stood up abruptly, causing Lady Helga to sputter to a stop. "Forgive me, my ladies," she said, giving them a large, utterly false smile. "I beg you to excuse me a moment. There seems to be a matter that requires my attention. A few moments' indulgence, I pray."

And then she was stalking out of the parlor and down to where the voices were coming from. "Warren. Mallory," she drawled. "As much as I appreciate the reprieve from the old biddies who came to call, couldn't you have come up with something better than a shouting match?!"