Gabe paused for a moment and turned to sniff in the general vicinity of his own shoulder. Oh, hey, wow, yeah. That'd be the fluted truffles from first period. You sort of got inured to it after all morning with the smell, but the resemblance to dead socks was sort of uncanny.
Not the point.
"My third years aren't masquerading as werewolves," Gabe stated. He eyed the chair, then went back to glaring down at Adam. He was good right here, ta. "What the fuck were you thinking?"