Post-Halloween

[we_bring_hell]

Harrow is working. Very seriously. She is not mooning over her new relationship with Gideon even a little bit; she has too much work to do.

She is, however, wearing a skull with accents of deep, almost black purple, with a starburst or floral pattern just below her temple, that she has never been seen to wear before.

Other than that sentimental embellishment, however, she is entirely focused on Obaeg's Toward a Common Haemographology. She is making copious notes in the margins--courting future simian fury--and thinking that she should have found this for Moiraine before they started working on her weave notation.

Comments

[we_bring_hell]

She shakes her head. "My parents, and the accumulated libraries of Drearburh."

"I learned to make constructs walk alongside teaching my own skeleton. It took me a little longer to start reading."

[riddleofthebelow]

"Impressive," he says, nodding with approval. "I taught myself to read, too. Out of sheer determination and spite. This was before I received my summons for boarding school, although I can't say I didn't stop learning out of sheer determination and spite there, too."

[we_bring_hell]

"I was raised with an intense consciousness of what I owed to my people; what my responsibility to them was, and how gifted I would have to be to accomplish it," she says.

[riddleofthebelow]

"No pressure at all."

He nods again. "Yes, you'd have done well in Slytherin."

[we_bring_hell]

"I am a genius," she says, without pride; almost rueful, as one admitting an embarrassing fact.

"I can claim no credit for the talent I was born with, and if I did not make the most of it for my people... what would I be?"

Harrow judges her parents for so much, but never the pressure to succeed.