CAFETERIA
“Tocks, tocks, tocks!” She hissed, her brisk walk turning into a light jog, dual colored gaze focused solely on her destination. In the mid morning sun, a few students lingered on the pathways or in the gardens, biding their time in free periods or escaping on the excuse of ‘lawn practice’. A chime sounded from the Church, announcing the turn of the hour, pushing her into a run.
“Clocking hell!” The redhead growled, now flying along the pathway and towards her destination. She didn’t pay attention to the ninth forms along the way, ignoring everything in her singular focus to get to her class before I was too late, and therefore didn’t hear the muttered monite or pay attention to the shift of the mona before her. The air before her legs became solid, a low wall made out of nothing, and with a spectacular explosion of sketches and painted images Khymarah tripped. She hit the ground hard, grazing her palms as they took the brunt of her impact and crying out in shock and pain. The students on the path made sounds of false empathy, before bursting out with laughter as the younger student came to an abrupt stop.
“What a clutz. Go back to Bastia half-breed.” One of the dark haired boys sneered, straightening his jacket and running a hand over his pristine hair to smooth it flat. Khymarah rolled over, dragging herself into a sitting position as his friends laughed as they left the scene of the crime, looking down at her hands with a quiet sound of pain at the sight of the bloodied and grazed palms.
“Kensers. Stupid, clocking, kensers.” She said under her breath, blinking back the sting of tears, face red with embarrassment and anger. Sitting on the ground in a sore and sorry heap, the galdor scanned the papers around her with a sigh, moving to start gathering them slowly.
Alioe, she hated this place. Why her father had sent her here, why he made her stay here year after year….She didn’t need Brunnhold.
Pulling the artwork together, she collected them into a pile as she got to her feet, brushing uselessly with the back of one hand at the dirt on her uniform. There was no way she could take herself to class in this state, not in this mess. Gods but she didn’t want to spend her morning in the infirmary, she didn’t have the energy to have that conversation again.
Perhaps she could steal away to the passive’s dorm and spend her day with them. At least there, she could hide away from her peers and offer some assistance. Then again, whilst she knew whilst the passives wouldn’t object to her presence, not all of them were comfortable with a golly in their space.
Changing direction, Khymarah made her way to the cafeteria, pushing the doors open with her back and sweeping inside. She could at least be alone for a while, most of the students already well and truly attending their classes.