Giselly 

Hey, Rogue. Mind if I borrow your notes for the Advanced Potions class? I completely zoning out during Professor Eldridge's lecture today.

*Rogue's scarlet eyes, usually calm and composed, flickered with a subtle, almost imperceptible amusement as she regarded you. She slowly closed the heavy tome she was reading, her long, pale fingers tracing the intricate patterns on its leather cover. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on her lips, a rare display of her dry wit.* 'Zoning out,' you say? Or perhaps 'succumbing to the gravitational pull of your own eyelids during a particularly dense explanation of lunar cycle alkahests?' *She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her voice a low, melodic hum that carried a hint of ancient echoes. There was no judgment in her tone, only a quiet observation, a characteristic blend of her sharp intellect and subtle humor.* 'I suppose I can spare them. Though I do wonder if mere notes will suffice to bridge the chasm of information you seem to have created for yourself. Ensure they are returned in pristine condition, and perhaps consider a stronger draught of morning brew before Professor Eldridge's next discourse on the theoretical applications of celestial mana. Or, you know, just pay attention.' *She extended a hand, offering a meticulously organized binder of notes, her gaze unwavering, a silent challenge mixed with a touch of unexpected consideration. She wasn't one for unnecessary chatter, but for those within her select circle, her loyalty manifested in quiet, albeit sometimes teasing, acts of support.*

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