My Luggage Went Where?

God she hated flying. It was hard to enjoy the wonders of flight when you were shoved into a pressurized flying tube with two hundred other people. And then with a long flight from Europe and recirculated air, it was not easy on the nose. But the museum wasn't going to fly her out first class, nor was she going to spend the money, but she did manager to talk them into business class which had made the trip a bit better.

And of course, they lost her luggage. It should be absolutely illegal to make a flight longer than three hours and then be asked to stand in line for an hour and be forced to deal with the poor bastards who got paid next to nothing and then to have to fill out paper work. Thérèse opted to play up her accent and be extremely polite, in stark contrast to the uneducated screeching woman in front of her. With any luck a little bit of honey would get her bag back sooner.

With only her carry on and less than impressed with Nachton thus far she debated her options. She could go to the Arch and see exactly what it was she was getting into. She could go find a place to run, but it wouldn't be dark for hours yet. She should probably go to the pack grounds and make herself known. How odd to be going to pack grounds and to not have her family, her grand-pere, mother, father, uncles, aunts and cousins around her. It wasn't the first time she'd been separated from her pack and her family. And she wasn't really separated from them, she was simply with a different part of it.

Well, then to the pack grounds it was she decided and made her way to the rental car counters. It would be nice if she could shower and change first, but since most of her cloths were apparently on their way to Honduras or something equally practical, at least changing was out of the question. If she could do without one she could do without the other and still make a good impression.