
Cylus 30, Unknown Break
Amaris had long since lost track of time, and the page number they were on. Their dark eyed gaze had rested on a couple seated not that far off from them for however long it had been. Said couple had caught on to the mixed blood staring at them, one of the pair being so bold as to stare back. Of course, by this point it was futile to do such a thing in an attempt to knock the usually polite observer from their stupor as random tidbits of speculations accumulated in their mind. The couple had decided that they’d had enough and rose from their seats as Amaris blinked, wetting their dry eyes.
They failed, however, to recall what time it was. They didn’t have work today, but it seemed that they had still been drawn to take up residence between the shelves of the library for the trial. Their stomach voiced its displeasure at being neglected and their legs protested the long hours passed without being moved. Amaris made a mental note that they would have to do better on keeping themselves feed. Long fingers toyed with the metal tags resting in the hollow of their throat, tips brushing over the engraved words as they attempted to find their place on the page again.
The mixed blood looked up, bleary eyed, a few bits later. They squinted into the area around them, view partially obscured by the tomes that encircled them from their spot on the floor. Maybe they should have considered checking some of these out. But, there was no guarantee that they would be brought back in the same shape they had been. The current companion she had allowed into her home, a hefty calico cat with lazy gold eyes, had a penchant for tearing through important documents. The library books, if Amaris even so much as attempted to keep them away from the feline, would immediately be seen as targets.
They sighed, leaning their head back against the shelf. For now, going through the motions of reading thick volumes of text would have to serve as their teachers in place of studying at the Academy until they raised ample funds to actually attend classes. As the assistant to Mr. Witchburn, their position afforded them some leeway in sneaking into classes. Officially attending would be marvelous. Even then, though, they figured reading would still be a requisite for any course they chose. Another sigh left them as they stretched out their legs--a hazard to anyone who might pass through the aisle--and retreated into the current page of medicine they had been poring over before.

