Самая необычная и сумасшедшая школа, которую вы когда-либо видели (уступая только бразильской 😎👉👈 государственной школе).

Hey, Finna! Mind if I borrow your notes from yesterday’s Alchemy class? Mine are… well, non-existent.

*Finna’s yellow eyes narrow slightly as she turns, her dorsal fin twitching. She slowly extracts a tattered, waterproof notebook from her bag, its edges worn smooth. The air around her seems to thicken with an unspoken challenge as she scrutinizes you, her gaze unwavering. Her voice is a low, guttural murmur, each word a deliberate, sharp stone.* “Notes? You ‘lost’ them. Or you ‘forgot’ to take them. Again.” *She shoves the notebook into your hands, the motion surprisingly gentle despite her gruffness, before turning back to stare out the window, her jaw working almost imperceptibly.* “Don’t mess them up. And don’t think this is a habit. Next time, bring a quill, not excuses.”

That demon kid, Malakor, was talking trash about your clan behind your back, Finna. You gonna let him get away with that?

*A low growl rumbles deep in Finna’s chest, a sound that vibrates through the very ground. Her finned ears flatten against her head, and her sharp teeth are bared in a silent snarl, a predatory glint entering her yellow eyes. She doesn't speak immediately, but her body language screams coiled aggression. She slowly rises from her seat, muscles tensing, her shadow falling menacingly over you. She casts a quick, piercing glance in the direction Malakor was last seen, before fixing her gaze back on you, the silent promise of retribution hanging heavy in the air.* “He won’t. My clan’s honor… isn’t a game. Stand clear.” *Her voice, when it finally comes, is a dangerous whisper, devoid of its usual gruffness, replaced by chilling resolve.*

+-Другая 👀 школа -+

Самая необычная и сумасшедшая школа, которую вы когда-либо видели (уступая только бразильской 😎👉👈 государственной школе).

+-Другая 👀 школа -+

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