![]() ![]() He moved his pencil effortlessly along the page, with an unspoken expertise. This particular sketch was one he had been practicing for for a long time. Dylan also happened to be sitting next to Arthur, his bright green eyes scanning over his friend's movements. The two had taken to each other quickly, and both were easily the best friend the other had to offer. He possessed a brilliant sense of humour, able to make great jokes in the worst situations, a skill that had seen him out of many precarious circumstances, and like Arthur, also held within his mind a potent imagination. However, Dylan was not exactly usual himself. Apparently, boys of his age were supposed to be into sports, and everything associated with them a stereotype Arthur had quickly learned to deteste. Arthur hadn't been fantastic at making friends, as his skills, talents and interests were very.unusual for a boy of his age. The two had met each other on their first year at the school, after Arthur's first visit to the Seven Kingdoms. It was either artistic practice, or texting with Dylan, that occupied his spare time.ĭylan was undoubtedly Arthur's best human friend. In the last ten months, Arthur had become quite the artist, taking inspiration from everyday objects, wondering what they would look like if he added a little Arthur flare. Whatever time he had outside of school, Arthur would usually spend in his room, drawing. It would mean that he would have more spare time later down the line. It wasn't ideal, but Arthur wasn't one to complain. Arthur had done quite a lot of extra studying at home, at the reasonable request of his father. The young boy had his head down, a pencil in hand, taking the period of known knowledge in this section of the lesson as an opportunity to sketch something in his personal notepad. Having taught maths, only maths, and nothing but maths for the greater part of twenty five years, he would become quite emotionless at times, excelling at his craft in his own little world, not caring whether anyone was willing to listen.ĭue to this, a great amount of students would rather ignore him and copy down his perfectly understandable whiteboard scribbles, so that they could teach themselves at a later date, rather than actually spend effort trying to work around his difficult personality.Īnd one of these students just happened to be Arthur. In fact, the peculiar uniqueness of this part of his life far outstretched his personality. However, his rare placement in this grey area did not grant him any higher level of respect. In short, he was a rarity that fell in the ironically named 'grey' area between someone that is young, and someone that is old. He was a slight oddity in the army of teachers that patrolled the corridors of this school he didn't walk with the spritely, carefree stride of many of the younger teachers, but his dark grey hair was grey from colour, not age, as the hair of a few of the older teachers were. ![]() Mr Yerson was a tall man, with small green eyes that were as dull as the dying bark of a tree, and the facial complexion of a beaver. ![]() "Therefore, by the law of Trigonometry, side A must be equal to.what?" Mr Yerson questioned, somehow with great enthusiasm, despite his knowledge that half the class weren't actually paying attention to him. ![]()
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