Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-5664762-20130707075225/@comment-26414442-20130709044643

''It repeats every year, just like it's supposed to. Just how fairy tales are supposed to. That is the way of life and stories. We repeat, we repeat... and we repeat.''

She released her glance from the hooded girl, travelling to another in the group. Cynthea Mallard, she said, looking down at the next Ugly Duckling. Who holds the destiny to grow up beautifully.

Airmid was bored. Who wouldn't be bored sitting there, listening to that old man drone on and on? She stuck a hand in her messager bag, wondering whether there was anything that she could doodle or fiddle on. Her notebook... and... was that a pen... it had to be a pen! She pulled both of them out as quietly as she could, opening up the pocket notebook, and testing the "pen" to see if it works...

"Oh."

Embarassed, Airmid slid the rectal thermometer back into her bag.