"Loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings". -Bram Stoker

I push through the torrent of students and teachers and into the thrumming school grounds. I never liked the aura of this place. It seems... monotonous, almost tedious, in a way. It figures. School seems a slave routine. Actually, in all honesty, most of life does. Well. Maybe that's an overstatement.

I turn the corner. It's quieter back here. It would be peaceful and nice aside for the fact that the air hangs thick and humid and still. I don't know why Callie chooses to wait here. Habit, probably. A small, thin squirrel dashes across my path. Right after it pounces a wild cat, fur wild and teeth flashing in all their glory. I wonder if the squirrel knows that its life is in danger, or if its just running from instinct and fear. I shake my head. What a weird thought.