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[@Krayzikk][@Plank Sinatra][@Crimmy][@Silvan Haven]

[h2]Dust Apps[/h2][/center]

[b]"Hopefully we'll get some more permanent knowledge out of her, then."[/b] I wryly responded in a similarly hushed tone.

Come on, we're in class with an extremely qualified professor here, Lauren.

That can't be comfortable at all, Sis. In my book, you should really save that for when you don't have to pretend to keep a lid on it...

Despite my internal grumblings, I still did manage to catch the supremely haggard entrance of my favorite otter, Beryl Harken. With the way she collapsed into the seat, offering only a tired grumble at response to my breathed [b]"Heya,"[/b] I had to wonder— What on earth had happened in Survival? I mean, Lauren looked fine, even a bit [i]too[/i] relaxed— [i]Literally just sitting on his lap![/i]— but my poor boatmate looked the definition of tuckered out.

Estelle Nuit must've been one maddening taskmistress...

Well, anyway.

[b]"I'll definitely be up for comparing notes with you guys— But,"[/b] I began before turning to Beryl specifically, still at a low, breathless rumble that would hopefully not carry out to Professor Cirsium past the aimless chatter of the crowd. [b]"If you [i]really[/i] want me to, Beryl..."[/b]

My right foot launched upwards into a swift, firm tap against the faunus's calves, rubber and toe digging into the muscle just the [i]slightest[/i] bit as demonstration. At full blast, she'd have to be dead not to at least notice, but this one was just proof of concept.

Surely that'd do, so long as I noticed in the midst of my note-taking trance.