Stark

There hadn't been any weetiny penguins in Stark's room when he left for his class in the morning. By the time he got back there, there were a few, perhaps refugees trying to escape the threat of being boiled in the common room. Over the course of the day, more had arrived. By now he had a whole flock waddling around the room and climbing on the furniture.

Stark thought this was wonderful. Weetiny penguins were almost as good as weetiny bunnies, even if they didn't appear to hug. The little penguin squeaks came very close to making up for that.

Stark was currently sitting in the middle of the room, watching the penguins as they frolicked. One penguin had managed to get itself onto his shoulder and was currently poking one flipper at his mask and squeaking curiously. The door was cracked upon, to allow for penguin traffic flow.



[Door and post are both open and eeeee penguins!]