Searing 68, 121
Social Studies
Once more in the commons of Kalzasi the bright sun burns down on its people. Yshvold found new places to explore, and holes to hide in, as he wandered around aimlessly. Today he sought the refuge of somewhere in the open and see how the people would treat him as he observed them. To the outside of the Office of Registry and Citizenship he went, curious as to the types of people who would frequent these halls.
Many more different faces were observed passing by, with nary a eye glancing over to him as he sat on a box, robed and masked, with parchment and coal to take notes. Although he had trouble writing the crude, childish drawings of each expression was enough to remind him of what he had seen. Once or twice a bystander would wave a greeting and he would try to awkwardly mimic it back then draw a hand similar to how they presented to him.
The task was tedious but Yshvold felt it was constructive, and admittedly fun. At some point he had stopped drawing notes and looked up to see clouds slowly passing by as time marched on. A simple pleasure he never afforded himself before but now seemed as grand as any adventure he could dream of. It was enough for him to forget himself as his legs begun to swing back and forth with him leaning back to let his arms support his weight.
Zoning out and letting the breeze take his mind elsewhere, his parchment lay forgotten on his lap with the piece of coal weighing it down. He thinks about nothing and simply enjoys the moment.
Once more in the commons of Kalzasi the bright sun burns down on its people. Yshvold found new places to explore, and holes to hide in, as he wandered around aimlessly. Today he sought the refuge of somewhere in the open and see how the people would treat him as he observed them. To the outside of the Office of Registry and Citizenship he went, curious as to the types of people who would frequent these halls.
Many more different faces were observed passing by, with nary a eye glancing over to him as he sat on a box, robed and masked, with parchment and coal to take notes. Although he had trouble writing the crude, childish drawings of each expression was enough to remind him of what he had seen. Once or twice a bystander would wave a greeting and he would try to awkwardly mimic it back then draw a hand similar to how they presented to him.
The task was tedious but Yshvold felt it was constructive, and admittedly fun. At some point he had stopped drawing notes and looked up to see clouds slowly passing by as time marched on. A simple pleasure he never afforded himself before but now seemed as grand as any adventure he could dream of. It was enough for him to forget himself as his legs begun to swing back and forth with him leaning back to let his arms support his weight.
Zoning out and letting the breeze take his mind elsewhere, his parchment lay forgotten on his lap with the piece of coal weighing it down. He thinks about nothing and simply enjoys the moment.
