She sat so still in the room, she may as well have been part of the plaster. In fact, she almost appeared to be, the long-sleeved, loose sweater, which should be stifling in the room, and the sand-colored pants almost matching the beige plaster of the walls, her mahogany hair almost a perfect match for the wood trim of the breezeless windows, only the faintest hint of pointed ears peeking out from the carefully placed strands. Few, if any, seemed to notice her. Then again, the same could be said of the professor, as their attention was openly devoted to the soft ticking of the clock.
She knew, and she watched the slow-moving hands, as well. Just more surreptitiously, keeping her head half-bowed to an open page of half-jotted notes, a pen idling in her fingers, keeping her head cocked just enough to watch the clock with the rest of them. The shrieking of the chalk drew her back, fingers tightening on her pen as it started to fall, face still lowered, but now clearly watching the grey man at the front of the classroom.
Silverwing. It fit him, grey all over, his wings merely filaments of silvered isinglass, but he knew what he was doing, even as he belittled them all, then started to tangle quietly with one particular student, one of the type that thought she knew everything already.
Only the tiniest moue of distaste pulled at the corner of the beige girl’s mouth, there and gone so fast, no one would really note it. Not that they were looking at her. They were far too busy watching the girl, their soft laughter at the expense of their teacher probably only egging her on. There was a fine line between proud and cocky, and another between droll and smartass. She could not decide, yet, as to which side of the fences this miss sat on. Pondering it even distracted her from the bumps on her arms as the ancient box wheezed to life and started trying to do what was asked of him.
So it was with considerable horror she heard her name. Paired with Ms. Bawn. The same Ms. Bawn who almost dared her to follow to the girl’s room.
Of course, no equal footing for that one. No give, no curiosity. Just an edict that was almost a daring taunt. Not even the professor seemed to notice her partner, or look around to see who it was, too busy to watch her saunter from the hall.
Cocky. Definitely cocky.
The other students, though eager to be gone, were a bit more circumspect about their wishes. Each name was called off, usually making a gesture, answered by another when Silverwing gave the next name. At the end, they gathered their stuff to file out, including the professor, leaving her frowning at the board.
Ms. Proxi, indeed. Next time, she’d just go with Invisible Girl.
Very slowly, she got to her feet, gathering her notebook and pen, then started silently from the room. A part of her wanted to go do something, anything, to shake off the subtle irritation of the class… but she started for Brunhilde’s, instead. The sooner, the better, and it wasn’t as if Bawn could find her. She wondered if the girl would even remember her partner’s name.
No matter. Even if the stranger shirked her work, she would kill both of them before she would fail this class.
The numbers to 113 were not long. First floor, down the right hand corridor. She sighed, pen and notebook having vanished during her walk, raised a lightly-freckled fist, and rapped smartly on the door, carefully schooling her features to blankness. Whether or not her partner was close, she kept her voice smooth and modulated. “Ms. Bawn? This is Ms. Proxi…”
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