[Anon flops on his front on the next futon over -- the quiet is like a physical presence after all the yelling and pandemonium out in the courtyard (what a meeting, it's almost a surprise they didn't shout the rest of the tree's petals down at this rate), and he stretches into it and gently clinks his sake cup against the bottle.

Because of course he brought the bottle. His movements are lazy and sprawling already but he's still contemplating it like it contains the mysteries of the next universe he'd like to go to.]

Hmm. I've never actually tried a futon before, you know? We used to live in Robert's old house when we were in the human world. It was all... Western? I think that's what they called it.