[b][h1][color=C8AD7F]Vera Meadows[/color] and [color=367588]Jocelyn Blackwell[/color][/h1][/b][hr][hr]
Fifth period had finally arrived after the not so small lunch incident, and Vera and Jocelyn had parted ways. What was her next class again?

[color=367588][b]"An exorcism class… Now where could that be?"[/b][/color]

Once she had arrived the little girl took her seat. Although it wasn't really a Blackwell thing to take Exorcism classes, Jocelyn thought she might as well. Maybe if she actually had some other tricks up her sleeves then she wouldn't be as useless in certain areas, especially with her frail body and lack of physical strength. Sometimes simple spells could be a big game changer.

Sometimes.

Jocelyn scribbled down everything her teacher was saying and listened carefully to the woman's words. She wanted to get everything out of these lessons, and writing notes was probably the best method for her. If there were going to be future tests to study for then Jocelyn could just flip to any page of her notebook and find all the answers there. Her hand was all over the pages of her notebook, jotting down words in rather scribbly handwriting. Many people in the past have always quoted on how Jocelyn's writing looked more like an undecipherable ancient language than actual English. Deciphering Jocelyn Blackwell's handwriting should have definitely been its own class.

In some other place and time, Vera sat at her desk in Mr Alistair's class. Although Vera was a more long distance fighter, gaining more knowledge on offensive and defensive reactions was useful. Especially offensive reactions, since defence was her strong suit.

The man was a good teacher, much to Vera's liking. A good teacher came with a good education, and a good education came with… well a good future.

That is, if Vera managed to survive the next few years of school.

Vera felt her left thigh, pictures of last night popping up into he mind. One of those feathers had almost pierced through her legs, if not for her trusty thorns to wrap herself with. Even though she had narrowly avoided a critical hit to her leg, the feather blades still left a small scratch. If that was going to be a regular thing, then she had to be prepared.

She had to be [i]combat ready[/i].