It takes her a second to disentangle that sentence, and even once she has it straight, she still has no idea what Whiteout meant by it. Listener wasn't expecting Whiteout to run into her? Well, yes, you generally aren't, right? What?

She turns to Clearsight and spreads her talons in a 'see?' gesture.

Clearsight shrugs back in return. "She's... interesting," she manages eventually, unsure how to condense everything she knows about her into a simple explanation.

"Sure. In a weird way," says Listener, rolling her shoulders and refolding her wings in an effort to banish the heebie-jeebies. "Anyway, what was all that about? Darkstalker? You know him?"

"Not... yet," Clearsight tells her, eliding over the exact intricacies of how much her existence is entangled with his. 

"He's intense," she says. "Maybe the smartest dragon in the history of the NightWings. He hatched on the brightest night, so he can read minds and see the future, which, as you can see," she shrugs a wing in Whiteout's general direction, "is a combination that makes everyone who has it super normal and easy to get along with. Honestly, though, as much as Weirdout gives me the creeps, I still like it better on her than on him. Darkstalker has this total vibe of knowing way too much about everyone, whereas half the time I think his sister forgets I'm not a rock."

Clearsight suddenly realizes that neither Darkstalker nor Whiteout had been in the seer training class. Whiteout is in a sense unsurprising, but what about Darkstalker? Had he been smarter than her, looked ahead to realize how awful the teacher is, and is pretending not to have found the class for that reason? Or is it that he didn't want anyone to know just how powerful he is, and is pretending to have not found it yet for that reason?

There are far too many reasons for him to be keeping his powers as quiet as he is, some good, some bad. She wishes she can be sure he's doing it for good reasons, and not the bad ones. 

She should stop thinking down this line, Listener has told her she doesn't want to listen very closely, but she doesn't want to give too much away too soon. "So when does everything get started," she asks her. 

"Depends what you want to get started with!" says Listener, trying very hard not to overhear whatever nonsense that was about seer training class. "We've got the scavengers over here, that big puzzle over there if you haven't had enough Weirdout for one day... I've been reading history, over at that station," she points. "But now that the scavengers are awake again I might just switch to taking notes about them. Or are you asking about the schedule? It's posted on the wall, right over there," she points in a different direction. "Free outdoor time starts at midnight, but there's an hour of group discussion first, where we all talk about what we've been learning."

So she can work on whatever she wants? Maybe that means she can-- no, working on her timeline scrolls leads to an uncomfortable discussion with her parents in Truthfinder's office in the future. Instead, she sticks with her new friend Listener taking notes on the scavengers, doing her best to act normal while the anxiety inside her builds and builds and builds. She's meeting him, she's meeting him very very soon. Is she ready? Can she make sure everything turns out alright? 

Listener does a good but not perfect job of staying oblivious to this.

At the end of group discussion, as the teacher is telling everyone they're free to go, she leans over and whispers, "Good luck with your future stuff, weirdo."

Clearsight ducks her head in embarrassed acknowledgment, and is torn by the desire to rush out the door and the desire to linger, to check through things one more time. In the end, she only hangs back a little bit, leaving at the back of the group of the rest of the students. 

Once outside, she pauses in the shade of a wide-branched tree, looking around and taking stock. Dragons are playing with one another, tossing pinecones back and forth or chasing each other around, splashing through puddles and climbing up and down trees. A few study together at the outdoor tables, and one is trying to get another to eat an unusual piece of fruit. Everyone is happy and carefree, unaware of the event about to take place. Everyone except her. 

But where is Darkstalker? He isn't angry that she moved their meeting to free period instead of before school, is he? There are only a few futures where he decided not to meet her after all, and none of them ended well. But no, that isn't it. He's trying to be clever, she can tell, though she can't see about what just yet...

The future settles into a consistent shape just slightly too late for Clearsight to do anything about it.

Whiteout is walking serenely across the schoolyard, stepping neatly around all the dragons in her way; she doesn't seem to see the game of marbles that she interrupts, glittering glass orbs scattered by a careless sweep of her elegant tail. Three frustrated older dragonets scramble in her wake, rounding up the marbles as best they can.

"Hey! Watch where you're walking!" snaps one of the three.

"Can't you use those weird eyes of yours?" another one growls.

The third contributes, "Or are IceWings blind as well as arrogant and vicious?"

And then, appearing as though out of nowhere, Darksight steps into view beside his sister.

"That was a little rude, don't you think?" he says mildly to the marble players.

"She ruined our game!" one of them complains.

"What a disaster," he says, in a superficially sympathetic tone that only serves to highlight just how blockheaded he thinks they're really being. "No wonder you had to resort to name-calling and bigotry."

None of them can think of anything to say to that.

Darkstalker drapes a wing across his sister's shoulders, halting her graceful advance.

"Whiteout, these dragons are upset because you knocked over their marbles when you walked through here," he explains.

"Oh." She turns back, blinking; it's the first sign she's given of noticing the incident at all. "I didn't realize what game you were playing. I thought the marbles were supposed to be beholden to the whims of the universe, and I was just another gust of wind." She tilts her head slightly, as though listening to something, and then smiles with captivating sweetness. "I'm sorry for disrupting your expectations."

The three of them shuffle uncertainly; then the biggest says, "That's all right. Sorry we yelled at you."

Whiteout stands very still for just slightly longer than a normal conversational pause should take, then says, "I understand. Thank you for deciding that yelling was not the place you wanted to be today."

She dips her snout in acknowledgment and then turns to keep walking.

Darkstalker opens his mouth, as the future crystallizes again around the words he's going to say—a parting shot to weaken the three dragons' friendship, sharp truths to tear them down with, she's cheating and he's unlucky in love and he's bored with the both of them—

His sister flicks her tail as she passes him, bapping him gently on the shoulder.

He deflates slightly, but follows his sister rather than forge ahead with his disrupted plan.

She takes a deep breath to steel herself, and then whee they come close to her tree she steps out of the shade and into the moonlight, a eyebrow raised. 

The siblings stop to meet her. Darkstalker looks excited and triumphant and a little bit terrified all at once.