“Well, the story goes something like this… my grandmother thought it was a foolish, unnecessary expense, because she felt there would rarely be any special occasion to wear them. So, she wore them on birthdays and subsequent anniversaries and eventually they got passed down to my mother who was just the opposite. She wore them everywhere. [name_m]Even[/name_m] to the market. I think she did it to annoy [name_m]Pierre[/name_m] Boulanger.”
She probably didn’t notice, I remind myself. She’s focused her textbook. When she starts thinking about social studies, an earthquake couldn’t distract her.
“Considering what we just saw, I don’t blame you,” Linnaeus paused and met [name_f]Astrid[/name_f]’s eyes, which were now focused on him. “[name_m]Don[/name_m]’t worry, nothing is going to happen to you. Not while I’m here.”
“Listen, Theo, I think you’re a cool guy, but—”
“But what?” Theo shot him an angry look.
“Wha—nothing! I—I think you’re a cool guy!” He dismissed whatever thoughts he had been thinking moments ago. Theo did not seem like the type to mess around with.
The crew stood in stunned silence for just a moment, before the beast helped itself to a generous piece of the bowsprit, spitting out jagged shards of splintered wood.
“Oh, thank you, then. [name_f]My[/name_f] summer was good, it was nice to not have to grade and worry about teaching for a bit. How was yours?” Mr. Edwards smiled briefly before walking back to his desk and stapling a few pieces of paper together.
His wife immediately kissed the top of their son’s head and sighed dreamily, “His name is [name_m]Xavier[/name_m]. [name_m]Xavier[/name_m] [name_m]Luc[/name_m].”
[name_m]Rufus[/name_m] shuddered, then began to sob, every shock of fear forcing its way out as he finally released the terror in some way. He cried into his hands and felt his mind clear just a little bit, still a foggy mess, but a fraction of the panic gone.
I sank to the ground next to Nahid’s still warm body, her blood soaking through my thin sweatshirt, my sobs reverberating through the trees and slamming back into my ears. [name_u]Liam[/name_u] placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, turning me away from the corpse. “We need to go now.” he signed with quick movements of his hands. I barely registered the words, I couldn’t think straight.
“If we’re lucky, Miss [name_u]Ariel[/name_u], we just might catch a glimpse of that sprightly little nightingale that has made its nest in the old knobby tree, near the hedge maze.”
Next word: lucky
@kaya_quinn, click on the big, blue reply button at the bottom of the page, not the smaller gray reply button that is directly beneath the last user’s post. Okay?