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The Burned Handler
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I used to be a handler like you, then I turned into a horse.
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What a strange look to give him in response to a bit of encouragement. Roderick met Latanna's gaze with calm, slightly befuddled dignity, no real steel in his expression but presenting a mountain unwilling to bend before the wind. Whatever, a corner of his mind whispered. Latanna was an odd one even during the times she managed to be all right.

She'd moved on in the space of a thought and Roderick internally shrugged. One day he'd have her figured out but maybe it wasn't today. Olivia remained silent, whatever her own private reasons, which meant it was his job to fill the gap left by Latanna's question.

The essay. Right. The other day he'd had to go to a different classmate hat in hand and confess that, in all the excitement caused by the upcoming tournament, he'd forgotten what the essay was actually supposed to be about. Or when it was due. He'd recovered decently at least, and the evidence was in a little yellow folder he fished from his backpack and delicately placed before him.

"I've a few. Already wrote up an outline for mine and everything."
MurderWeasel getting impatient
Hiya, jerk! Please don't post until edits have been completed, as doing so causes confusion/messes up the queue.

18:48 Ruggawork I have faith in you!
18:48 Ruggawork and your ass!

16:35 Kilmarnock Maybe Iktor?
16:35 Kilmarnock Maybe Toben.
16:35 Kilmarnock hard to tell until they make out with me.
16:35 *** mib_6brm7d is now known as Irene

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Sometimes when we reach for the stars... · Memories from the Past