Robin was sitting with her back against a tree, bending over a small back notebook she was scribbling fervently in. She was officially freaked out. No matter where she turned, there always seemed to be another student with scary powers, waiting to pop out and be all... All friendly to her.
So she'd tried to escape, braving marshes and a tiny bit of a forest and a whole lot of streams and rivers (that part she didn't mind - she'd never seen running water like that) before she'd gotten to where she was now. It was most definitely worth it.
There was a tiny little stream to one side of her, bubbling happily to itself as it poured along to wherever it was headed. The ground was coated with thick moss, and a grove of tall trees obscured the place from anyone who dared walk by. Which, so far, was no one, so Robin was happy.
She hummed happily, some old Nat King Cole song she'd heard on the car ride down - the driver'd played classics the entire way, and now she couldn't get them out of her brain. Not that that was a bad thing - songs about love were nice, right? She didn't exactly understand them, but it didn't make them bad. She yawned, signing the entry with her nickname - well, it wasn't exactly her nickname, but she thought it might be if she got close enough to someone. Didn't matter, anyway. She dissmissed the thought sleepily, slipping deeper and deeper into the clutches of sweet unconsciousness. In less then five minutes, she was asleep.
She blamed the stream.
So she'd tried to escape, braving marshes and a tiny bit of a forest and a whole lot of streams and rivers (that part she didn't mind - she'd never seen running water like that) before she'd gotten to where she was now. It was most definitely worth it.
There was a tiny little stream to one side of her, bubbling happily to itself as it poured along to wherever it was headed. The ground was coated with thick moss, and a grove of tall trees obscured the place from anyone who dared walk by. Which, so far, was no one, so Robin was happy.
She hummed happily, some old Nat King Cole song she'd heard on the car ride down - the driver'd played classics the entire way, and now she couldn't get them out of her brain. Not that that was a bad thing - songs about love were nice, right? She didn't exactly understand them, but it didn't make them bad. She yawned, signing the entry with her nickname - well, it wasn't exactly her nickname, but she thought it might be if she got close enough to someone. Didn't matter, anyway. She dissmissed the thought sleepily, slipping deeper and deeper into the clutches of sweet unconsciousness. In less then five minutes, she was asleep.
She blamed the stream.