She hadn't bothered to pay attention to the instructor's name, but they droned on their warnings intermittently, as the students present listened to the endless extolling of theory behind spellcraft, specifically the writing of spells. Of course, the students weren't permitted to write their own completed spells, they were only introduced to the principles involved. This was particularly vexing to Pleasance, who tended to excel at practical learning, over theoretical exposition. At best, they were allowed to draw elements of monite characters on paper, never intending for a full pronunciation or follow-through.
Only a couple of years before, she'd begun to take her studies more seriously. It was more important than ever that she shows herself to be a competent mage, now that her allowance hinged on continued excellence at school. As such, she tried to surround herself with excellent practitioners. Not necessarily those that were in the same field of magic as her. William, of course, was a great perceptive conversationalist, while the boy that talked to dead people, well... She wasn't sure what kind of magic he was involved in. She barely ventured to ask. Only thought to sit herself and William at his table, while attending their beginner spellwriting courses.
"Now, you have all come to a ways in your studies these past years. It's time to put the aggregated knowledge of all those years to use in this one effort. To design your own spells. It is no small thing, to create a spell. But having read quite a few, you've begun to not only learn the shape of monite, but also how the shaping of spells has wrapped itself around your own fields, in successful usage," Here he glanced at some of the more talented students in attendance, "As well as the less successful." Obviously directed at Pleasance, or so she thought. Perhaps she was getting insecure. He didn't deign to look at her at any rate.
She shook her head out of that thinking, anyway. The young woman was determined to make something of this course, and eventually reaching great enough heights with Physical conversation that she would be able to scribe her own spell. Her parents would eat their ultimatum, and she'd be grinding the words of her spell into their faces.
But that wasn't a proper mood to be writing a spell in. Not for Pleasance. Her approach toward the mona was one of negotiation. Transactional, offering this for that. Even if it were only pretty words, for a simple push or pull, there was a lilt of persuasive intent, tempered by a commanding timbre when she spoke the monite language.
William's approach was slightly different. His was a more ostentatious, bombastic style. She'd seen how he waved his arms, practicing the magic with all his physical presence. It'd be impressive if he worked on himself more. But he was still her chubby little friend, in her mind.
Their style of spellcraft seemed to translate to their writing of the monite letters on parchment. These were not meant to be formal spells, for use in the moment. None of them were anywhere near ready for that level of magic. This was just the preliminary fumblings of young men and women who might one day become spellwrites and magisters. Even so, they each had their own peculiar style when it came to tracing those monite characters on their bits of paper.
"William! Careful, do not mouth the words as you write them, here, you must have discipline!" Pleasance took the instructor's distraction as an opportunity to pause her own work, and take a look at Ezre's writing style. Curious to what the ghost-obsessed boy might be working on, she leaned over, perhaps a little too closely, to get a look at the shape of his writing.