there. there it again: the unmistakable smell of wolf that has her hands shaking and pens rattling across the top of her physics textbook. she hates this school, tabitha decides, hates this school and it’s eau de wolf that seems to be stronger with every corner she skitters around. well, not this corner it would seem as she hurries around it and bumps shoulders with another. already weak hands loose their grip on her books, the texts and notebooks clattering to the ground in an impressively loud cacophony.
❝ so-sorry. ❞
she mumbles, already on her hands and knees, unsure if her whispered apology was even heard. probably not.
::: ofreclusion || x :::
