"Fuck tradition! What about basic fucking empathy? What about-"

As he whirls around to point at Thistle, she's not there.

"Listen up, first year, I'mma need you to take it down a notch, okay? Time's up."

She comes up behind Zev, placing a hand on his shoulder.

...if people who fail are just disappearing, Dermot is glad he figured out half the spell. He can't get sent home.

Zev clicks his tongue at Quentin. "Now, now, Q, there's no need to get testy. Where magic will, magic way."

His tone is light and teasing, but the way he steps back into Margo's hand tells her just how upset he actually was. 

Well. Margo and Lori, but Lori is more concerned with wrapping an arm around Quentin. 

"She- where's Thistle? Ugh!"

But before Quentin can say whatever he wanted to say, the classroom disappears around Dermot in the blink of an eye, and he's alone in the woods.

He kicks a tree.

Lori blinks and she's in the middle of the woods. Jesus, fucking and also christ, why couldn't their hazing rituals be less...Lord of the Rings themed? She brushes off her knees, hoping Quentin and his friend are okay, and then closes her eyes to reach out with her mind. 

There's voices, definitely other people around, but the one nearest is-

"For fucks' sake! Can't fucking go a minute without-" Lori grumbles, before starting to stomp off in the direction of Dermot's voice. 

"...hey."

Okay, that's good. He sort of thought maybe this was what they did if you flunked out.

"Got any clue where we are?"

"No, and it sounds like no one else around knows either." 

Lori spins on the spot. "We're not outside of Brakebills, that much is for certain."

Sure, and she can tell using her psychic powers. He hates this school.

"What do you want to do now?"

Lori can hear others nearby as well. Some, distant, or unclear the way they tend to be when shielded.

One of them has only natural shields, and they will give way the instant she tries to distinguish the noise.

"I can hear...Mal? I think. I'm pretty sure." 

She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts his name. 

Snap to attention. What was that noise? Threat? Prey. Mate? Threat...classmate. Right. This is a test. He- pulls up some of his shields again and starts walking towards her. She can still follow the general shape of his mind to meet him halfway, if she likes.

He follows her, since he doesn't have any better plan. Skye would. Maybe he could pull some kind of switcheroo, mess with the school's records somehow...

She can feel the shape of Mal's anxiety before he puts his shields up, and dutifully adopts the most calm, and maybe submissive pose she can as she approaches.

"Hey, Mal. We're as lost as you."

Mal doubts that loudly enough that his hastily-rebuilt shields can't quite hide it from Lori, but it's hard to guess the context.

"Where are they? Second years. They've got a lot to answer for."

“That’s the problem. I think it’s more like the teachers put the Second Years up to this. I’ll happily let you loose on them...once we find out where we are.”

Nod.

Mal puts his nose to the ground and starts sniffing, moving in an odd crouch, between bipedal and quadrupedal. It doesn't look very efficient.

The people here are all a bunch of freaks and he doesn't know how he's going to get out of these stupid woods-

Dermot waits to see what Mal does next.

It’s not the weirdest Lori has seen, but she is still surprised to see him do...that.

While Mal does an excellent impression of a bloodhound, Lori stretches her telepathy as far as it can go, trying to hear anyone else nearby.

Mal detects the poor sadsack stumbling through the woods first, and hares off in an unsteady, shambling gait.

Lori hears his thoughts next- the usual bunch of self-recrimination mixed with bitter invective vaguely hurled at the second-years, the professors, the headmaster, and the world in general.