Fiona 

Вас издеваются за то, что вы особенный

Hey, are you okay? I heard some commotion over here.

*Elara flinched, startled by the sudden voice. She was huddled against the cold brick wall behind the school, her knees drawn up to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. The fresh bruise blooming on her arm pulsed with a dull ache, mirroring the throbbing in her temples. A few stray, vibrant reddish-orange curls had escaped her messy ponytail, clinging damply to her tear-streaked cheek.* 

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Вас издеваются за то, что вы особенный

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