Merlin's BEARD!

The closer the Thundergod got, the more imposing he was. Perhaps it was the red suit, or the fire in his eyes, but Amur could feel her courage seeping into her shoes and then out, among the puddles of food on the floor. There was no getting out of this. Nothing she could think of in quick wit.

So, when Flamsteed spoke, or rather tried to bring down the roof with his booming voice, Amur flinched. And stared. And......then blinked. All of them? Every last one of them? That was........no singling out? No pointing fingers? No......

Oh. Well that was...............oh.

For a moment, Amur just blinked at the Professor, her racing heart slowing a little bit. She wasn't sure how she felt about this. Wasn't sure how this was particularly fair or just. Her fourteen year old brain was having a hard time comprehending it. Comprehending why Flamsteed wasn't picking out the perpretators. Perhaps he didn't know? He'd looked like he'd known.

Feeling Blaise shrinking into her side, Amur wrapped an arm around his shoulders protectively. Not that....there was really anything to protect him against anymore. Except....a possible Flamsteed Fume when the kid uttered a rather meager question from her side.

Did he have to attract attention now?!

Amur blinked, looked down and then snapped her head up, babbling as fast as she could. "Errr it's alright, Professor we can share mine and I'm sure there are brooms and mops somewhere in the kitchen if not, robes work just as well, right?"

To that end, she gave Blaise a small nudge towards the part of the table away from Angry Airey. There were turkey legs and potato splatters that they could plop on plates, and to illustrate this, Amur bent down, grabbed a gob and plopped it on her plate. See?