Hateful Passion

Extended a slender hand she smiled. "Welcome Sonlath, to the School. I'm Iced. Now if you don't mind, I'm goning back to my perch upstairs, since you're not gonna bother me." Iced turned and climbed back up the grand staircase, moving as if she owned the whole room. She didn't give her real name, only the tag seen around the school in obscure places. Like in one of the empty third floor rooms, and on the stable roof. She reached her balcony, and pulled the drawings back out from under the rug.

Looking down on him once more, she relaxed. This kid wasn't gonna a threat. He was a downer, more depressed then she had ever been. Leaning back she started a new sketch, her pen moving fluidly a-crossed the paper. A face began to form on the page, unrecognizable, but not for long. The kid's dark eyes soon stared back at her, reflecting bits of his hardships, but not enough to know his story. "I wonder what he's been through..." She muttered.

Her fingers rippled across another page, depicting scenes from around the school. She drew more and more, her master of the art of sketch indefatigble (untiring). Looking down, she eyed Sonlath once more, before gathering up her drawing utencils to leave. She carfully pinched out the cigeratte that he allowed her to take, and slipped it into a case with her pens.

Descending from her balcony over the ballroom, she strode to the opposite door. Her hand on the handle, she turned to the kid once more. "Hey I'm going to the city for lunch, wnanna come?" Iced drawled out.

(wow that was short for my first post in a long time)