Perhaps Zohvin much preferred the privacy of having been roommate-free for a few months, but he did still try to make a point of lingering in the public areas. If the other dreamfolk got used to his presence, and saw him as a friendly face, then that was all the better.

With that in mind, Zohvin steps into the common room with a colorful bowl of fruit salad in one hand and a cup of milky tea in the other, a fairly sizable booklet held under one arm. He gives Kit a rather curious look before moving over to one of the couches, setting his food on the table nearby.

"If you don't mind me saying, you look like warmed-over bantha dung."