[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=F2541F]Atkin Bowman[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[/center][hr][center][color=F2541F][b]Location:[/b][/color] Wizard Tower[/center][hr]
Atkin looked at the Grula-Grula with a mix of incredulity and weariness. The more he saw of this thing, the less he understood or cared to be around it. When he first saw it, he might have considered it almost cute in the same way you'd consider something like a stray mutt cute. But after having to chase it through a book store, wrestle it into submission and then listen to it whine and plead continuously in his ear for the past half hour, an charity he had towards it had been converted into annoyance. And to top it all off, the nuisance tipping a hat it didn't have just made the entire situation excessively ridiculous.

Taking his eyes off the furry little creature, he directed it first to Rowland's hand, which he took in his own for a firm shake. He could feel just how much age had affected those hands immediately. The skin was loose and he felt like the bones would crumble if he squeezed too hard. He knew this wasn't the case, but the immediate difference between his own hands and than of old timers always caught him a bit off guard.

[color=F2541F]"Sorry, but I don't think I can do that. How 'bout just Rowland?"[/color] It didn't sit right with him to call any senior citizen by their first name, especially when he didn't know them like in this case. Perhaps it was that bit of politeness that his mother, siblings and society had beaten into him over the years that said you should respect your elders. Perhaps it was that he couldn't treat someone with such an age gap with that level of casualness. Or it could be that he was ex-ExtraOrdinary Wizard and his brain told him that it'd be wrong to act as if they were anywhere close to equal stature. But he was fairly certain it'd be near impossible to just call him Blaise. The name just wouldn't fit in his mouth correctly.

[color=F2541F]"Why don't I just not draw from the pot?"[/color] Atkin asked in response to all this information. It was the first thing that came to mind and he couldn't keep it down. [color=F2541F]"Most Apprentices don't go on this Queste in the first place, if only two of 'em ever actually survived being given the task. Then it's not really important to finishing my apprenticeship, is it? If it's something that almost nobody ever survives, then it's not really a tradition worth upholding, innit? Like if this is the reason you set up the wards, then there ain't really a reason to play along with whoever rigged the pot in the first place."[/color]

He followed the adults into the tower, puzzled at everyone else's reactions. This seemed to be enough to stick a stick right up their anuses, but the danger seem entire reliant on doing something that could be easily avoided. Just, don't draw any stones. Or just dump the whole thing out and fill it with normal rocks. He really didn't see all the danger everyone else was zeroed in on. However, he could feel he was about to get some lecture about tradition, blah, blah, responsibility, blah, blah, blah, everyone's expectations for you, blah, blah, blah. But this really didn't feel like the proper for such a thing to take precedence.