Glad for her timing and the lack of traffic in the halls, Thayva quickly made her way to the large double front doors of the mansion. A few papers cluttered a board mounted to the wall beside the doorway, advertising various jobs from people in town for the orphans to take up come the weekends, among other bits of information all held up by rugged nails tacked into the board.
	Her tail swished behind her as she pulled the scroll from her waistband, unfurled it, and tacked it to an empty spot of board with a couple unused nails: the newest list of jobs. She scanned the other pages, checking for anything old or out of place. 
	After tearing down a couple old job advertisements and pocketing a messily scrawled prank note of someone looking for anyone willing to fish out a fire-breathing duck trapped in one of the boys’ privies before it blew up the mansion, she began her usual morning routine of opening the windows facing the front of the house to let in fresh air.
	She paused as an unusually cool breeze blew through the window she had just opened, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed at the crisp scent. The sweet, electric smell of an impending storm rode the breeze.
	Thayva leaned out the window, trying to get a good look at the sky. A line of gray clouds floated just above the tree line surrounding the front yard, looming with a puffy ominousness.
	[i]Have to keep an eye on that.[/i] Thayva ducked back inside. [i]Don’t want the floors to rot because of an open window during rain.[/i]
	She turned and headed toward the kitchen. Driven by a hunger that had begun to gnaw at her stomach, she hoped to scavenge any leftovers from the morning meal before finishing up double checking the most recent test scores.

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	Nick nodded in Aurelian 's direction as Ilyrana eagerly thrust her hand in the air, her face begging for the teacher to pick her. Without waiting for more than the teacher’s glance, the elven girl spoke.
	“Wizards,” Ilyrana began, ignoring Laya’s raised eyebrows, “usually deal in lighter magic, and specialize in one or two subjects, while warlocks delve into the darker stuff, and usually deal in a wider range of areas. Though, they both usually need some kind of staff, wand, or other trinket to channel their magic, since [i]they[/i] have to seek [i]it[/i] out, instead of [i]it[/i] seeking [i]them[/i] out.”

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	The halfling gave a frustrated sigh at Serapis’ persistence. He was late. Of that he was sure. The sounds of other orphans had already faded into oblivion from more than just the distance he had placed between himself and the most-traveled areas. Before the dracon finished speaking, the gentle sound of feet padding against the floorboards drew his attention a short second before Serapis looked over at the woman approaching.
	His brows furrowed irritably when the woman, too, asked about “the problem” in the same kind tone she had used on those couple occasions Galatea had been his masseuse.
	[b]“Or maybe he can’t.”[/b]
	The halfling’s head dropped, his gaze turning to the floor and fists clenching at the dracon’s words.
	Can’t. How he hated that word. But, no matter how often he heard it--mocking or otherwise--he refused to correct it, to prove it wrong. No. He wouldn’t break the promise he made himself after...
	He hung his head lower as Galatea answered the headmaster. Turning his attention instead on the hall, he focused on keeping his steps silent as he tried to steal away from the adults, hoping neither would notice until he had already safely slipped into the back of his classroom.