Art class was such an annoying thing.  She hadn't had a class like this since Primary School. . . Back when she could really find herself having fun.  Being creative didn't mean a thing when there was a dangerous world outside.  Francesca couldn't help but feel fidgety in the class.  She preferred working her hands around the hilt of a sword or the grip of a gun, not soft and moldable clay.  In fact, the clay felt disgusting.  It was bad enough she had to wear a uniform around.  Again.  

What was she going to make, even if she wanted to dirty her hands with this soft clay, she wouldn't have the first idea of what to mold it into.  She was gifted with steel-forging talents, not soft squishy disgusting thing talents.  Plus, she had a hard time envisioning things.  She was glad to be able to leave, though not in the rushed way her apparent partner had done.  She was no fan of skipping classes, but this. . . Art class? It seemed to do nothing more than stress her out about what to do.  The best solution would be to removed herself from the environment. Perhaps there would be a weaponsmithing art class?  Still, she had little else to do now.  Perhaps an early lunch or so?  She barely had a breakfast, so perhaps it was a good idea.  The only surefire thing right now for Francesca was her music playing in her ears.