Between the cookies raining down on them Sybille could make out one of the older girls that she thought she had seen in the common room in the past week. The girl’s dark hair bounced as he jumped backward with a squeal. Oh, no. She hadn’t meant to start the girl. Sybille could feel the tears building now. But, no, she was a young lady now, and young ladies didn’t cry. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” She started as the cookies plopped with a finality to the ground. Sybille stared miserably at them. “They were the last ones I brought with me.” She tried to explain at the older girl’s exclamation, Sybille’s voice wavering terribly. “And now I can’t make anymore.” Her voice broke. Maybe she really was homesick.