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Jorah was about as excited for [i]another[/i] unit meeting as one could expect, and right off the bat things seemed about as optimistic as their meeting in the Cathedral just days prior. Ooooo, maybe someone from the Rose Unit itself went missing this time? From a cursory glance, no one he personally knew was missing, so if that was the case it couldn’t have been anyone too important. Surely then all this grief could wait until the morning?

Okay, maybe that was a little rough. 

Ugh, but who cared?? Jorah just wanted to go back to his dorm and finish the sleep he started just before sunrise, not sit through another hour of professors prattling on dourly about this or that tragic occurrence in or around the esteemed walls of Garreg Mach. He didn’t need another afternoon of swimming through the worries of every other student at the Officers’ Academy. Couldn’t he just sit this one out? Come on, even [i]Clarissa[/i] seemed a little put off by the as-yet-unannounced meeting, but unfortunately her presence despite the annoyance was as much a guarantee as anything that like it or not, Jorah probably wasn’t escaping anytime soon. Dammit. 

Lysander didn’t help the general unease of the students with his weird, vaguely threatening introduction, but honestly, the vague threat of injury would probably have been preferable to what the two of them launched into next. The moment that chalkboard flipped over, Jorah felt his blood run cold - but not from his own doing. He didn’t need to look over to know the source. He knew that vicarious feeling well, and he knew exactly what spurred it on. The feeling hurt his heart, and not just vicariously; It’d been years since he’d felt it so potently, but it had never [i]quite[/i] gone away, either. So, while the rest of the Deer might have been shocked to see Clarissa bolt out of the room at the mention of Crests, Jorah was just sad and unfazed. 

He turned in his seat to follow, but thought better of it when Clarissa slipped out the door; the last thing she’d want, of all people, would be to cause a scene. The very act of leaving was already way beyond the pale for her, and Jorah knew it wouldn’t do any good to go running after her and draw even [i]more[/i] attention. Instead, he did his best to act cool - easy enough for him, fortunately - so as not to alarm the other Deer. That was what House Leaders did, right? Set an example? Clarissa seemed to think so. 

Still, it was lucky he was a good actor, because he was seething just as harshly as Clarissa was. Whose bloody idea was it to announce to the entire unit that every single member had a Crest? Goddess above, Lysander sounded like his father, acting like a Crest was the be-all end-all of divine endowments, something nobody could ever in their right mind come to resent or regret. Surely [i]nobody[/i] would ever [i]hide[/i] their Crest. Oh no, no no. Crest-bearing babies were blessed by the Goddess, bound for greatness - whether they liked it or not.

Jorah fought not to roll his eyes. Was it any wonder he and his father could never see eye-to-eye on this? What a ridiculous notion. Admittedly his own Crest had never caused him the same anguish as Clarissa’s had, but he could still see why the topic might be a sore one even without a Crest as infamous as the [i]Crest of the Beast[/i]. But if the Monastery knew of Clarissa’s Crest, wouldn’t they know which one it was as well? Jorah would have thought they’d have a bit of tact given that Crest’s particular [i]history[/i], but apparently the highest seat of religious power in all of Fódlan was too high on their own incense to consider anything so droll as common courtesy. 

At least Professor Tomai didn’t seem to be breathing the fumes as deeply as Lysander was. Clarissa was at the forefront of his mind, but Jorah still caught some pieces about the nature of Crests and how they could be controlled. His own Crest surely fell into the category of “passive,” given he could hardly conceive of what life might be like if he could “turn off” the ability to feel the emotions of those around him, and didn’t even realize it was abnormal until he was well into his childhood. Though, was it so clear? He couldn’t get rid of the feelings, that was certain; but the other side of his Crest, the one that allowed him to coax people to his side of an argument, seemed at least somewhat voluntary. Or, if it wasn’t, then it was weak enough that for most people it must not matter. He would concede that it would be interesting to learn more about his Crest and how it might be controlled, but that didn’t make him any less pissed over how clumsily the topic was handled. 

To Jorah’s surprise, Clarissa returned. He really wouldn’t have blamed her for taking off back to her dorm or the cathedral, but he was happy that she found the courage to come back inside. She wasn’t fully better, but the worst of her turmoil seemed to have burned off; as fine a first step as any. She pressed a little closer when she sat back down, and Jorah returned the gesture with a friendly nudge of the shoulder, happy to let Clarissa lean on him if she needed to. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much of a setback. As sad as it made him to think about it, the two of them might not have another several years left together to pull Clarissa through her pain all over again. 

For once, the other students didn’t draw out the lecture with stupid questions, and soon enough they were all released from this farce of a class. Jorah gave Clarissa another nudge, offering a sympathetic smile. Well, he’d gotten her through once; by now, he was basically an expert. 

[color=FFAB66]“Needed the privy that bad, huh?”[/color] he teased, voice low enough that only she would hear, [color=FFAB66]“I told you not to eat the fish today.”[/color] 

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