Altair wandered in to the library, his bag tucked under his arm as he made his way to the unoccupied table in the very back corner of the room. It was the only spot he'd use to study and complete his homework when he ACTUALLY did it. Altair wasn't one for actually doing his own school work, and quite frankly, that's what Alshain was for. His twin brother was born to serve him. After all, Altair had been born mere seconds earlier than the boy. This clearly meant that he was the superior of the two twins. And it was true – Altair was superior in every way. He was smarter, prettier, cleaner, faster ... Altair was born with all the good attributes, while Alshain was born with all the shoddy, undesirable traits.

But, for once, now as not the time to reprimand Alshain's weaknesses and faults. Now was the time to demonstrate Altair's true prowess and to prepare for his science test that was coming up.

As Altair rounded the book case, he froze. There was someone – no – someTHING sitting at HIS table. It was gangly, snarfling, and breathing loudly. What ... what was it?

The boy's skin began to crawl, recalling his last encounter with an unsavoury child who had tried to suffocate him in the Head Mistress' office. Altair could feel his throat and lungs squeeze at the memory, and Altair had to try his best to keep himself from outwardly panicking.

Instead, Altair stepped forward, trying to look confident, holding his head high. He would not be made a fool of again for a second time in one week. Perhaps the nightmare at the table was just ... 'gifted'.

--

Nemoi was sitting at the desk, hunched over herself as she gnawed openly on a snack of freshly inked paper. Her teacher had written up a note reprimanding her for vicious behaviour in class. Nemoi had attacked another freshling, and if Nemoi wasn't going to be able to get her street rat mannerisms under control, then she would be expelled from the Academy and placed back in to the public school system. Having a roof over her head made Nemoi feel spoiled rotten. It was something she was so unaccustomed to, and Nemoi was having difficulties adjusting to living in a safe environment. The Academy and their dedicated team of caretakers and counsellors were doing all they could to try and help Nemoi adjust. It was odd, really. Having complete strangers care about your well being so much that they would put up with less favourable attitudes. People like them could be so easily taken advantage of ...

The hybrid's head snapped up, eyes darting towards the sound that captured Nemoi's attention. A boy had appeared from between a set of bookshelves and was walking straight towards her table. Nemoi bristled and hissed reflexively, trying to frighten the boy away. What were they doing!? How dare he come near Nemoi's turf!

--

2

Altair's whole body flinched as he heard the slurring, hissing noise slip passed the girl's lips, barring her fangs at him. What was Altair supposed to take from that? His mind flickered back to the sight of the fallen child's arm with two deep puncture wounds in it, and the colour threatened to drain from his face. Atlair, however, held his pace, sliding in to the seat on the opposite side of the table. Atlair was facing his fears. This was good. This is what people always told you to do – to be brave and to fight back against the urge to run – that flight response so many people caved to. Well, Altair was not another of the sheeple. He would sit here, ignore the other freshling and focus on his studying.

--

Nemoi's chartreuse eyes seemed to widen and fixated on the boy as he settled himself down at the table in front of her. Was the boy not scared of her? Why had he not let out a cry of terror and hightail it? Why was the boy still sitting there, completely and entirely ignoring her? Was the boy daft? Everyone else that Nemoi had encountered hadn't even given Nemoi a second glance before running away from her prickly and offensive nature. Her little demonstration hadn't scared him off ... ? Really? That was so hard to believe ...

The hybrid shifted closer, just as the boy set his books down and swatted at his binder, sending it flying across the room and landing with a dull thump against the well carpeted floor.

Ha! Surely that would make him leave!

--

3

Altair flinched, bolting his eyes just as the hand came swinging down at him. Altair was certain he was about to be struck. It was not unusual for people to hit Altair, but that didn't mean that the boy enjoyed it. You would have to be a complete masochist to enjoy the bullying Altair received on a semi-frequent basis. But when the boy heard the soft thwump against the carpet, Altair reopened his eyes and stared shocked at the menacing face before him, mere inches away from his own.

As uncouth as it was, Altair blew gently on the girl's face, trying to force her to back off as he glanced towards the source of the sound. His ... his books? Really? That was so immature. With a soft, aggravated sigh, Altair slipped off his chair and went to collect his books. What an immature prat this girl was! First hissing, now knocking his things off the table? What was her damage?

--

Nemoi let out a gutteral sound as she winced away from the boy, the breath having tickled her nose and made it itch, scrubbing her whole face with her paws in an attempt to override the sensation. RUDE! What nerve that child had! Blowing on her face! Was he looking for a beating!?

“Hey!” Nemoi barked aggressively, drawing the attention of a few students nearby. “What's the big idea, eh?! Blowin' on me face like that! S'not proper, not one bit!”

--

4

Altair had just leaned down to pick up the binder and the scattered papers that had been thrown from his book when he heard a rather dog like bark come from behind him. The boy snapped upright and cast a cautious look over his shoulder, fearful of what might be behind him, only to see the girl who had thrown his stuff off his table looming over him. What had he gotten himself in to ... ?

Cradling his wrist to his chest, Altair turned to face them, fearful that he would be bitten like that fallen had been by that evil snake child. As far as he could see, Altair was trapped. His back was facing rows of overstuffed book shelves and infront of him was an angry, puffed up fur ball who looked quite ready to leap on him and scrap.

The words that spilled from the girl's mouth in a giant slur left Altair a bit confused. First, why was she talking like that? Secondly ... 'not proper'? Like the girl was one to call something proper! Way to call the kettle black! Had she seen a mirror lately? Ugh, the nerve!

”Excuuuse you! I would say that is an entirely hypocritical thing for you to say! Look at you! A ripped up sweater patched up with whatever tatted fabric you could find to patch it up with! Loathsome. Why don't you get your parents to buy you a real sweater? Oh, you probably don't have any, do you! Why else would you look so full of lice and filth?” Altair did not like being called improper. How dare the heathen girl even suggest such a thing!

--

Nemoi's eyes narrowed, her upper lip pulling back as she snarled and growled, barring her fangs as something far more animalistic began to bubble up, swirling through her energy and threatening to explode. Her fingers curled in tight against the palms of her hands, forming small but potentially deadly fists, and in an instant, the small-framed girl lunged. With a angry roar, the girl was on him in a instant, swiping at his face in an attempt to claw him. How dare he mention her parents! How dare he talk about her like he knew anything about Nemoi's life.

The sounds of their shouting had drawn a curious, worried, and angry librarian. They were B-lining towards the noise, and once they spotted the scrapping children and Nemoi whailing on Altair, the nightmare broke out in a steady run, shouting at them to stop.

But Nemoi wouldn't stop. She couldn't stop, tears streaming down her face.

--

5

Altair cried out uselessly, holding his hands up over his face to protect himself as the rabid child clawed at the back of his hands. He could hear running, but hardly over the barbaric snarling the other child was making. The assault didn't last long, the librarian separating Nemoi from Altair and shouting at her to stop. The commotion had caused quite a stir, drawing the attention of the whole library. Wide eyes were staring all around as Altair picked himself up. His favourite sweater was torn, making him look just as rough and haggered as the girl who had attacked him, his eye swollen and shut from the initial strike of the girl's vicious claws.

Feeling embarrassed and mortified, Altair gathered up what he could and slipped off while the librarian struggled with the unruly girl. This was truly a week from hell. Alshain was never allowed to be sick ever again ...

--

Nemoi didn't settle down until Altair was far from view. Having exhausted herself, the girl now hung limply in the librarian's arms. An assistant had called for Ava and a few caretakers to come and take Nemoi out of the library so that it wasn't left unattended. Ava, much to Nemoi's gratitude, seemed to be busy. The librarian handed Nemoi off to one of the caretakers who knew about Nemoi's passed and the difficulties it presented her. The caretaker encouraged Nemoi to gather up her things, and the girl listened, grabbing up her paper snack and bag stuffed full old, gross, and eclectic items. Nemoi slung the bag over her shoulder and walked back to the caretaker's side, padding along at their side as the two caretakers lead Nemoi out of the library. Detention and suspension was probable. And more counselling ... Nemoi wasn't looking forward to it, but at least it would get her out of classes for a while.