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There were many things that Karrie despised. A lack of a sense of humor was one thing. A lack of justice was another. And of course, her boss would add a lack of respect for authority to that list. The truth was that Coyote generally didn’t actually hate these things; rather, she loved their opposites too much to tolerate those things. There were forms and procedures and generally a lot of useless work involved in getting to see novas who were currently at the Ramillies Nova Centre. Karrie really didn’t feel like messing with all of that nonsense so in typical Karrie fashion, she didn’t. They would have denied her anyway, so why bother? The Common Tern sailed over the walls of the Ramillies Centre, banking once on three-foot wings. The large white wings twisted in the wing, the bright orange bill catching the sun. Karrie saw that her quarry was alone, her bird-eyes picking out the silver hair and lithe build. Another twist of her wings, and she was settling down in the garden, some distance away from her target. Vysarian was sitting alone still when she approached. She’s never seen him but he’d been described in the article she read. There was no mistaking the androgynous features, pale hair and, of course, the pointed ears. Still, Karrie straightened out her denim skirt and t-shirt. The shirt advertised for Montoya’s School of Fencing and displayed two men with crossed swords on the front. In honor of this visit, Karrie had even added some make up to her face, accenting her eyes and trying to downplay her jaw and nose. “Hi,” she said as she took the bench across from him. Her eyes met his and she paused, startled by his eyes. “Hot damn, but you have pretty eyes.” Then she waved her hands in dismissal. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant to say. Lemme start over. Are you Vysarian Araseal and/or Amaranth Marie?”