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[sub][color=silver][i]Mentions[/i][/color] | [color=D9CC47]Dune[/color] [@Bartimaeus]
[color=silver][i]Location[/i][/color] | Haven Academy, Entrance Quadrangle[/sub][/center][hr]
Heather sat among a small circle of her peers from Sanctum in the quadrangle of Haven academy. She’d struggle to call them friends as none of them were particularly friendly towards her. They viewed her as some charity case, needing to be plucked from the bowels of mediocrity by their graces. Still, it was better than being perceived as some sort of weird loner. The girls had insisted on meeting early to grab some coffees to go before heading up the laborious stairway, now perched to observe the flood of prospective students. They eagerly exchanged gossip as a few persons of intrigue passed through the gates.

“Is that the Al Mond heiress?” One girl said, her cheeks flushed with bewilderment. “Do you think I should ask for an autograph?”

“Desperation isn’t a good look for you, Olive.” Another giggled, the group chiming in to offer their own equally vague and uninteresting opinions on the matter. They made little effort to include Heather in their conversations. It would seem they were just as content to keep her on the periphery of the social circle as she was to remain there.

[i]Don’t make waves, Heather.[/i] Those were the last words she heard from her Aunt Camelia that morning as she departed. They had certainly dampened her spirit somewhat. Her aunt was never one to shy away from praise or offer support, but she had made her disapproval of Heather’s ambition to attend Shade apparent ever since she expressed an interest in the entrance exam.

“Hey Heather, look over there.” Gwyn, the ringleader, pulled Heather from her train of thought, drawing her attention to a silver haired faunus who they were all too familiar with. Silme. He’d garnered quite a reputation for his violent outbursts and callous attitude.
“You know,” Another girl began, sneering sidelong at Heather whilst talking to her friend beside her in a whisper loud enough for the group to hear. “I thought allowing her admission was just the Headmaster being generous, but if they’re letting [i]him[/i] attend then clearly whoever’s in charge has a screw loose.”
“Do you think the school has some sort of benefits program for troubled youths? Maybe they’re trying to rake in the Lien.”

Heather dug her nails into her palms, staring down at the grass whilst the gaggle of hens cackled away.
[color=C9346A][i]Don’t make waves. Don’t make waves.[/i][/color] She repeated the words again and again, bringing herself to her feet with as much poise and dignity as she could manage in the face of their jabs.
“[color=C9346A]If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take a walk.[/color]” Heather snapped, staring daggers at the girls. They took little notice of her departure, their attention drawn to another student. She practically stormed off from them, reassuring herself with the same mantra that had gotten her through Sanctum.

[i][color=C9346A]I will not let that woman define me. I’m here to become a Huntress and that’s what I’ll do. No two ways about it.[/color][/i] The affirmations failed to invigorate her as they normally would. No amount of manifesting positivity could hide just how nervous she was. She found herself leaning against a tree in the courtyard, slumping down into a seated position with a forlorn sigh.

“[color=C9346A]I’ll be better off if I never have to speak to those nasty, vapid cretin’s again.[/color]” She cursed aloud, turning her head to the side to notice that the tree in question was already being occupied by another girl.
Startled to her feet, Heather’s cheeks went beet red. No doubt the gray haired girl had heard her and the idea of airing her business to a complete stranger by accident was mortifying. She’d need to think fast.
“[color=C9346A]Wh-what I mean to say is, uh, what a lovely day we’re having isn’t it? Truly splendid.[/color]” [i]Truly splendid[/i]. Who talks like that anymore? Today was her chance to redefine herself among people who had no idea who she was. She’d hoped to have a bit more class than to out herself as a nervous wreck and a dweeb to the first stranger she met.