But he continued shoveling it all into his mouth regardless.
The new year had brought with it new duties. Though duels and sports matches continued to drain the very small pool of his continually dwindling "free"-time, yet another duty had been thrust upon him under the guise of smiling, benevolent opportunity. He'd spent enough time among the faculty to know full well it was purely a matter of "Wendell will do what I ask when I ask because that's just who he is". And they weren't wrong. Some squabbles with his longest running friend and enemy aside, he rarely refused a favor asked. When it was a professor doing the asking, there was no question. He was a student - he was expected to do as he was told, do it with a smile, and do it to standard, which was, in his particular case, as close to perfection as was possible.
He'd tutored many of his peers in the past - both above and below him. They'd varied in their capabilities. Some had been lacking motivation and drive with plenty of natural talent and intelligence to apply during their shared sessions, making him, essentially, a glorified moral support. Some simply weren't skilled at certain subjects. He preferred people like that when it came to assisting them, as he understood overcoming one's personal struggles better than trying to find the drive to improve one's self. As he moved through the hallway, pace slow and thoughtful, eyes carefully perusing the contents of the papers in his hands, he found his lips turning a worried arc.
Palis Ainu.
The boy's record was abysmal, and not in the sense of total failure. Most who flunked classes did so for a small handful of specific reasons - upsets in their personal lives, pathetic rebellions against the status quo, a complete and utter disregard for their own self-betterment. From his marks alone, it was clear there was a concerted effort on Palis' part, and it made everything all the more pitiable. His attendance suggested he at least hadn't yet given up, but there was very little variance to the unfortunate thirties and fifties reported. As the several quickly scrawled notes added by various professors who'd had him their classes all seemed to agree upon, Palis was a pathetic excuse for a student - and some even went as far as a golly in general.
"Unfortunate." He muttered under his breath, closing the slim leather case and latching the small string about the clasp.
He'd been asked to arrive at exactly four quarters past the twenty-second hour, and, as with most all things in his life, he'd meticulously planned out his departure, transit, and arrival times so that, as he stepped into the dormitory's lounge, the clock's minute hand fell into its proper place as if on cue. Though he'd read up on what he needed to know about his soon to be pupil, there had only been a vague list of notable features quickly jotted down as if it had been an afterthought of an afterthought: blonde hair, blue-"ish" eyes, and a flair for floral prints. The three traits encompassed at least a solid quarter of the young men at Brunnhold, if not more.
The common room was a comfortable size - all the more so for the lack of people. Dinner was still in progress, and those who tended to be a bit more on the rowdy side often lingered where ever there was food. Meaning? The dormitories were peaceful, if only for the time being. Exquisite couches and lounges lined the walls. Delicate side tables, exotic ottomans, lamps and hanging chandeliers, heavy stain drapes, and a dark, luscious wooden floor all worked together in a heady harmony to paint a very clear, very bold picture of wealth and comfort with just enough of an eclectic flair to remind those within that this was not their final destination, only a point of transit towards better, brighter things - if they applied themselves.
There were four options available to him - assuming Palis wasn't late to his own tutoring appointment, something that was quite definitely a possibility, as he should have only been informed a day or two prior at the earliest -, and he had no issue address them all at the same time. His first year as student had been one of fury and sweat and a complete lack of comprehension of the world around him. As the years had passed, he'd grown into his own, and though there were dark circles beneath his eyes, his voice rang out clear, polite, and subtly commanding.
"Is Palis Ainu present?" His wavy blonde hair was swept to the side, piercing blue eyes searching the faces that turned, some with interest, some with dismissive annoyance. He was dressed in the proper verdant uniform, cleanly pressed, and stood tall - taller than most, but a height he owned none-the-less. Pulling the leather bound file from beneath his arm where he'd been keeping it firmly tucked between his elbow and side, he tapped the side of it against the tips of the fingers of his free hand, brows arched expectantly. "My name is Wendell Honeycutt-"
The name alone sparked recognition in two of the four faces, both of whom immediately reconsidered their various expressions and instead exchanged them for polite, respectful shakes of their heads.
"-and I have been asked to assist you with your... academia." Embarrassment was, usually, a fairly reliable teacher.