Let's ignore Treeset, Herethroy girl, and let's ignore Greenswave, Herethroy boy. Treeset talked with us for five minutes in the buttery and politely excused herself and left. Thery and I were a few minutes late when Greenswave came to visit, by which time he had left and Dustweed was in tears. Let's also ignore Methichor, Rassimel boy. Thery didn't want to share an apartment with someone the same sex and opposite species.
Let's not ignore Havune. On the far end of Goathorn street is a small and shabby longhouse, packed so full of Cani grandmothers and puppies and a pet enstarba that I could barely fit in through the window. There I found Havune. He was easy to recongize, wearing a necklace of dull green stones and a jerkin of marbled, iridescent chimeront leather when all his cousins were wearing flowers and goat-hide.
Havune, yes, would prefer to live with his relatives, because he is Cani. But his relatives are poor, and the longhouse is so crowded that a Cani can't wag his tail without tipping over an aged aunt *and* getting the tip of it in a nephew's soup, and he knows they were pushing a bit to let him stay there even for a week or so.
And Havune is pleasant and Havune's parents are married to a baron and Havune's uncle had met Thary's parents a few times, so that part was settled.
I am the most desirable roommate, naturally. This does me no personal credit at all. I will sleep in the fireplace and my clothes will fit in the seventh part of a closet, and whoever shares my room will have more space. So Dustweed and I will take the smaller room, and Thery and Havune will take the larger one.
I do wish Bandazure hadn't been quite so quick to leave for home. I had to spend a cley to make the textbooks follow me -- and had to go over roofs and through alleys so as to not be seen looking silly with five big books waddling through the air after me.