"Hrumph," Claude scoffed, a rather exaggerated roll of the eyes coming from his person. That jab of Castiel's didn't bother him too much, given that it actually hurt her more than it did him, what with making the implication that she was either incapable of completing the task, or too insecure about her abilities to take initiative. Perhaps she just wished to see if he'd fail, just so she'd feel better when she would presumably do so as well. And then she continued, speaking about an inability to write. Hopefully she meant 'write legibly' not 'write at all'. He didn't want to deal with some illiterate plebeian. Claude smirked slightly and glanced at Castiel before telling the teacher, "Okay, I'll play your little game." It didn't take a genius to figure out he was talking to Castiel as well. He claimed a sheet of paper and pencil, before stepping up to plate. [i]'Focus,'[/i] he thought, taking in and exhaling deeply.

The whole task took much more effort than it would if a regular Priest were to do so, Claude could thank the damnable family curse for that. But if he was going to let something as stupid as that get in his way, he didn't deserve to even be here. Give your all, or don't give at all. Exertion of the soul was... definitely not healthy, but he pushed himself. By the time he had written down all three, his shoulders, left hand, and right leg were twitching, or in the leg's case, tapping, quite a lot. His handwriting started to become progressively sloppy as he used more time focusing his soul to supplement his eyes, and he was still slower than John, but it'd take Castiel beating his (admittedly below average) time before he could be called 'slowest'. Hopefully it wouldn't amount to that.