Post by Ticha Myna Yanu, Aslinn Marr on Oct 15, 2007 19:19:13 GMT -5
Myna stared coldly at the first student in. A strand of hair was floating in front of her face, a cold storm breeze blew it back. Myna wasn't in the best mood today. Her students would see that, and she hoped they would be smart and pay attention and take note. Her fists were clenched behind her back, as she paced the room. The Ticha's footsteps were heavy, pounding like a clock. Stamp. Stomp. Turn. Stamp. Stomp... The students better hurry, or they were going to be pushed into plenty of hurt.