[right][h3][b][i][color=7ea7d8]Professor Walnut[/color][/i][/b][/h3][color=7ea7d8]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color]
[color=7ea7d8][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Shadowell Manor: Confinement (Attic)
[color=7ea7d8][i][b]Skills:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=7ea7d8][i][b]Hit Points:[/b][/i][/color] 3
[color=7ea7d8]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]	Walnut heard one of the women in the room announce that the door had been opened and she let out a slight sigh of relief - not so much relief from worry but relief from the irritation that had been readily mounting. Everything about coming to this place seemed to have been a mistake. They had been promised answers, and so far, all they had learned was that the staff appeared to favor Swamp and Amaranthine for some bizarre reason - it was as if they could do no wrong, true saints among men who purified the ground wherever they walked. Just thinking about it gave Walnut the sensation of bile creeping up along the back of her throat, the acidic taste overwhelming in her mouth. 

	She heard the planner wish the door opener a good job and Walnut could not help but make a slightly scathing remark: [color=7ea7d8]"I suppose you would like to wait in here and come up with a strategy before leaving the room, then?"[/color] she said, her words like daggers. It was not much of a question despite it being phrased as one - it was ridicule for the foolish and oft repeated insistences the planner had made. For all of the time the woman had spent whining about wishing to make a plan, she could have come up with one privately and then shared it with the others once the door was ajar. She then heard the male voice near her ask if someone needed help getting up, which Walnut took as strange. It clearly was not in reference to her, as she was not on the ground.