6th of Saun, 720, midmorning.
In the earliest days of Saun, there was a balminess to the air of Viden. Something that Zemos hadn't seen since... well he'd never experienced weather this warm to his recollection, which was admittedly incomplete. He didn't know if the time before the White Void contained times spent in a more temperate region, or even tropical lands even farther to the south. Yet, as he busied himself with a bit of rope-making in one of the common areas of the campus, Zemos hummed to himself. Many people avoided his gaze these days. That was nothing new, but the looks they gave him upon the advent of his witchmark was unrivaled by their previous attitude.
It seemed they had him pegged either for some sort of mutant, leper, or mage. Zemos didn't know which of those three things would be received best, so he felt it best not to confirm their suspicions either way. At least Sophie still was willing to carouse with Zemos. His only friend, it seemed at times, she was very kind and helpful. And he in turn tried to repay the favor by picking up slack during their group assignments in toxicology.
Zemos wove the rope with a very basic braid. Curling one fiber around another and in between the other, making it sturdy. He did this work partly for necessity, to create a weapon with which he could defend himself on the rougher areas of Viden's streets, where he lived. But also it was a stress relief, a pleasure even. He'd just about finished the monkey fist, wrapping it around a smooth, small river rock and then cordoning off the knot with a simple tie. This done, he bunched up the rope and slipped it into the pocket of his homespun robe. The flax he'd acquired to make the hemp rope hadn't come without its share of labor. Well earned, and he felt more prideful for having created the weapon himself.
Soon enough, however, Sophie arrived at the common area, an open floor with benches set against large botanical islands. The conifer trees growing there lent a sweet, piney scent, and traded the humid air for a more brisk taste of the outdoors, that was a welcome reprieve from the dregs of the lower prisms of Viden.
Zemos rose with a smile to greet Sophie. "Hello Soph. Good day and well met! Are we going to Professor Thetys'?"
Sophie nodded at him, "Yeah let's go. I have classes elsewhere, so I won't be staying to translate for you... I hope... well you'll have to make do."
This having been said, they made small talk as they walked along. Mostly talking about little nothings like campus gossip, various subjects related to their fields of study, and bookworms. This passed the time quite nicely until they arrived at the Professor's office, whereupon Sophie knocked for him. If they were allowed to enter, she'd open the door for Zemos, and nod quickly in greeting to the Professor. "Forgive me, Professor, Zemos wanted to see you about an appointment he had? I thought I'd take it on myself to show him where you are."
So saying, she swiftly departed when given leave to, and Zemos entered, shuffling his feet shyly toward the professor. His voluminous roughspun covered most of his body and had its share of pockets and sacks for gathering and storage of various reagents. "Professor! You wanted talk blood?" His common was terribly atrocious, but he hoped that Doran wasn't as harsh about it as Mervani was. Zemos didn't think he'd be able to learn very much without being able to ask a question here or there...