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Sothis, How's That?

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"Sixteen minutes," Sothis chides. "You are sixteen minutes late. I dare say this retribution seems almost divine—a karmic vengeance for your little fluffy dalliance."

"Quiet."

"It is what you rightfully deserve for your ignorance and yet, it should be the least of your concerns. Your sheep are waiting for you!"

"I'm aware."

Byleth arrives to the classroom seventeen minutes late, his hair tousled and clothes covered in fur, finding only Petra and a sleeping Linhardt.

Sothis cheekily slips into her seat. "Poor little shepherd."

"Professor," says Petra. "You are arriving at last. Did something happen?"

"Miss Macneary, where is everyone?"

"Ah..." the foreigner hesitates, lips frowning as she attempts to speak. "Dorothea said... er... if teacher does not come in fifteen minutes, class is... divinely allowed to leave—as decreed by Seiros herself. But I am having trouble understanding, so I stayed. I have not heard of that commandment before today?"

Byleth snatches Linhardt by the ponytail as he attempts, in unconscious response, to sleepwalk out.

"I'll be right back," he says while turning Linhardt around. "Watch him for me, will you?"

Linhardt smacks his desk face first as the professor leaves with exactly six chalkboard erasers.