For a moment, it seems like neither Will nor Romilly knows how to respond. Finally, Romilly manages a polite, "No, thank you. It's a little early for us."
There's a collective snort from your fellow students, a sound partway between amusement and disgust.
"You'll have to excuse us if we feel the need to partake a little earlier, human," Sonia says, her tone a few degrees below chilly. "Consider it a side effect of constantly being spat on, mistrusted, and outnumbered by mortals."
"Look, I don't think there's any need to be like that," Will replies. There's a hint of a flush in his cheeks, though it's difficult to say whether it's from embarrassment or anger. "We were just trying to be friendly, coming to say hello. If you don't want to have anything to do with us, then you don't need to be so damned rude about it."
"He's right," Romilly says, taking a step forward. "I know that things haven't always been good between our…well, species, but that wasn't anything to do with us, any of us. Things are never going to get better if you don't try to at least be a little more mature."
Silence follows Romilly's outburst. You take a moment to calculate the odds of her and Will surviving if people keep mouthing off at each other, then try to work out how likely it is that Lady Rastan will decide that whatever happens is all your fault. The numbers you arrive at aren't particularly promising, and you quickly step between the groups.