Laur didn't really feel like eating. She'd gone to the cafeteria and picked at the day's entree of vegetable stew and bread, but despite the fact that she hadn't had breakfast, she wasn't hungry and ended up throwing most of it out. Through curiosity, she ended up looking into the cafeteria garbage can as she poured out the red stew, watching as it fell and splashed to the bottom, leaving the crock covered in a thin bloody layer. Things always tended to look like blood when you were in the right mindset.

She hadn't written much of an indication of it in her letter, but she terribly missed Horace. She'd been used to having no company before, but now knowing what it was like to have it she didn't want to go back to sitting alone at lunch, walking to classes alone, et cetera. She glided off with heavy thoughts to the library, her usual haunt. Back to her old habits again, she supposed.

She chose a table back in the magic section, but instead of a book from one of her disciplines, she picked up one discussing Static magic. Maybe she'd see what this stuff was all about. She'd dropped the discipline quickly after becoming more interested in organic matters, but she had never been bad at it; in fact, she did excellently, like in nearly all of the classes she'd had. She'd just lost interest in inorganic manipulation after being exposed to Perceptive and testing its compatibility with Living. Those two magical disciplines combined with an advanced knowledge of biology could go much farther than any inorganic knowledge, she'd thought, but she surmised that a combination of Physical, Static, and geology and chemistry could do much of the same, especially with more help from quantitative. Quantitative was useful; in fact, she'd decided on a quantitative class for next semester in case she wanted to go into the sciences. She hadn't taken nearly enough of that discipline.

She cracked open the book and began to absorb herself in a description of great Hoxian masters carving buildings into mountainsides with only the mona. Perhaps this wasn't the best choice of book, come to think of it.

Athrym chewed on a lock of hair, absentmindedly flicking through a fairly well used grimore. The Advanced spells were interesting to look and and dechipher, and variations popped into the blondes head as she read. Glancing up as someone sat across from her, the blue eyed galdor rolled her eyes and returned to her book. Laureline Almond. She was older, she was - in Athrym's mind - quite pretty, and she was annoying. Short, and annoying.

Why was the library such a popular place for annoying people. She would have to find somewhere else to read.

Laur hadn't even realized there was someone at the table across from her, until she heard flicking pages and hair-chewing. She barely ventured a glance from above her book, but then had to do a bit of a double-take. Oh, gods, no. Not her. Not that impulsive, backlashing imbecile. She had a thought to move, but that would just be backing down. Almonds did not back down. She moved her (rather piercing, at this point) yellow gaze over her book again, and said in a very leveled tone one word: "Bruthgrave." That was enough acknowledgement, she decided. Back to her reading.

Athrym glanced up from her book again, pale blue eyes taking on an icy hardness reserved only for those that annoyed her the very most.

"Almond." She said in a frosty tone, dropping the lock of hair and narrowing her eyes slightly. Did the black haired witch really have something to say to her, or was that monotone acknowledgement just to grate on her nerves. Shifting to cross her legs, the blonde closed her book.

"Fancy seeing you in here. I would have figured the library was a little out of your league...considering you had to ask a younger student, my fiance , for tutoring." It was hard to resist..so very hard to resist.

Laur matched Athrym's narrowed eyes and tone expertly.

"You're marrying that? I thought you would've had more of a brain on you...oh wait, you don't. Judging from two weeks ago in the cafeteria, anyhow. And for your information, it wasn't tutoring I was going for, more simply a guinea pig to try things out on. You know very well Perceptive spells don't work on anything but a person. I just chose to choose one that could fight back to an extent. You must not be in the library often, if you don't see me here. But then, that seems to be expected."

She returned to her reading.

Pursing her lips for a moment, Athrym glared from under her fringe.

"Yes actually, I am most definitly marrying that. Sooner, rather than later too. Mister Siordanti has a lot more going for him than any of the youths in this school, both mentally and physically." Pausing, she raised an eyebrow, pushing her field out in a rippling blizzard-like wave.

"I guess you might be right, I've got a fiance to love and who loves me, unlike some who only have the company of books in the evenings. Right Laureline? Think about that, when I am happily married whilst you sit amongst dusty tomes...utterly alone. Seems like I may have the better hand there." Her voice dripped with frosty smugness.

It was nearly second nature for Laur to counter Athrym's field affront. She was older; hers was more developed. Stronger. Despite her careful, sharp tones, she was rather confident she could handle whatever this stupid impulsive girl wanted to throw at her. A little field battle was nothing for her.
She looked down into her book while she talked; not shyly, more as an indicator of how much that snotty blonde girl in front of her mattered: not much. "Hmm. Well, some of us happen to have ambitions besides being a pretty trophy wife. And try Ms. Almond," looking at Athrym pointedly, "underclassman." She hated being called Laureline, but she didn't know Athrym, and didn't want to. She wasn't going to let the girl call her a nickname.

The blondes jaw was clenched tightly and her temple throbbed as Laureline spoke, as though she wasn't worth the effort. Clocking black haired wench. Glaring through her fringe, the pale girl spoke.

"Just because I am to be married, Laureline, does not mean I have no ambitions. It mean's I will have someone by my side to support my work, and to thrive with me. I won't be alone, not like you. Clocks, your two years my senior and you still don't have a suitor. My, your parents must be getting concerned by now. Their poor daughter, far to homely to attract a gentleman to court her." The blonde tsk'd and shook her head in mock sympathy.

"What a shame they created such an ugly child. Let's only hope her brains make up for her lack of looks. You know what they say...its not all about the pretty face. Well....you would at least hope for that."