Abigail's patience is wearing thin by this point; she'd been having a hard enough time coping with her life before all this started, and she's starting to think the event might be the straw that will break the camel's back. She's pacing the corridors, arms crossed tightly, trying to ignore half the thoughts going through her head. Most of the time, Abigail understands her own mind well enough. She's not the kind of girl who has random, violent thoughts - at least, not that often. Not as often as she has been today.

So to see someone else who is clearly having so much fun puts a spark to a fuse that she didn't even know was in her.

"No," she mutters, sullenly - quietly enough that it's possible he'll miss it, if he's not paying attention, "Nothing brilliant about it."