All that is gold does not glitter

She takes the girl’s hand and continues to walk down the hallways,”I read, sometimes I go into the training room but then the trainers make me go out.”

He straightened up with an insulted look developing on but he tried to conceal it as much as possible. “Yeah, I actually know that. That is a grade school lesson. I’m not…” He pursed his lips and looked back down at the burger patties. “Normally, when the mold is on meat, it’s bad. And this one could just be a leftover from yesterday and they heared it up since the other burger patties look fine.”

“Well, technically, we’re in Quebec now but not yet in the main city. We’ll probably be there in fifteen minutes.” She raised het brow and smirked. “Je sais un peu de lui.” She said, word accentuated almost perfectly. “I learned from the classes and my trips here. Not as fluent as Felicia, though.”

"I guess I don’t know my way around here. Not been at the academy long enough to venture this far yet.’ Bridget raised her eyebrow in reply and smiled. "Oh, ouais? Et, parles-tu le francais de France or celui de Canada?" Bridget replied. "Felicia’s fluent? I should take advantage of that some time or I’ll forget it eventually."

His eyes never left the patty. “I wonder if this is just a moist onion or a mold secreting enzymes.”

Bridget peered at what he was looking at. "It's an onion. In a beef patty. Perfectly healthy. Besides, molds and bacteria aren't inherently bad. Yoghurt has heaps of good bacteria and have you ever had blue cheese? The blueness is mold. The point is, the burger is fine. Cooked well, with good ingredients. It's not mold. It's not even cold. At least not yet."

Nodding her head, she jumps off from the seat, stumbling a bit but manages to balance herself. She grabs onto the older girl’s shirt hem and walks towards the faculty building.

Bridget followed the girl, but she took the girl's hand in her hand instead of her dragging on the hem of her shirt. "So what do you do here?" she asked, having never been a pre-trainee.

Frances finishes her hot chocolate and turns to the other girl,”Can you bring me back to my room? It’s in the building where the teachers stay.”

"Sure. Just let me put the cups away, alright?" She takes the empty hot chocolate mug and rinses it before stacking it in the dishwasher along, repeating the process with her cup. "Alright, let's go."

"One year."

"I hope so. He hasn’t come since I came here."

"How... long have you been here?"

"Uh, he goes to an office and talks to a lot of important people."

"Sounds busy. I'm sure he'll come visit you soon."

"My Papa’s busy with work, but he’s going to come visit me when he has time!"

"What does he do?"

"I told you, we’re going to Quebec." And right when she said it, she decided to go to this specific bar she went to before. "L’Inox, actually. That’s we’re we are going. Friendly bar but lots of good looking, French-speaking studs."

Bridget nodded. "Right. How long does it take to get to Quebec?" she asked, realising she sounded like a child asking 'are we there yet?'. "You speak French?"

Leaning a little on the food table in the cafeteria, he intently looked at burger patties. “This one looks weird.”

Sitting down across from him and taking a bite of her own burger, Bridget replies, "They taste fine."

Alright! Hey I make great tacos and tamales….subsequently I also make really good Greek food.

Okay, yeah, you are definitely making the food for this picnic.

"Well, it’s time." She grinned at her as she sped the car a little. 

Bridget nodded and sat back in silence until the car reached a town. "So where to now?"

"Seven? Really? So young to be here. Where's your mortal parent?"

Frances looks up from the marshmallows that she’s poking in her drink and quickly wipes the moustache away with the sleeve of her shirt. Turning to the other girl, she asks,”Is it gone?”

"Thank you." Frances tells the other girl as she’s lifted up to the seat. She contents herself with watching the older trainee prepare her drink while waiting. When she’s handed the hot chocolate she smiles and blows on it, trying to make it cooler. After awhile, she decides that it’s cool enough to drink and takes a sip, getting some on her upper lip but she doesn’t know this.

Bridget turns back to the kettle and fills the pot with water. She strains it and pours herself a cup of coffee. When it's done and she's added milk, she turns back to Frances and can't help but smile when she sees the milk moustache the little girl has. "I think you've got something on your lip, hun."