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2021-05-25 01:41:24I generally pride myself on being fairly observant. I know it took me forever to figure out the fact that I am a mage, and maybe i should’ve been able to pick up on clues about that earlier than I did, but other than that, there haven’t been a lot of times in my life when i haven’t noticed things that are important, things that matter.
You’re probably going back through this story now, at least mentally, looking for examples of when I’ve missed something. You’re just going to have to take my word for it. It really doesn’t happen that frequently.
But with Fionna? Having feelings for Ben? I did not see that at all. Not even a little bit. I sat there on my stump thinking about how it could even be possible. How could she be so fond of me and secretly be in love with the man I was meant to marry? It didn’t even
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School. The place I both dreaded going back to and was happy to see. I walked through the doors of Whispering Hollow High School feeling like I hadn’t been there for ages. The students were even staring at me like they wondered where I’d been. I knew I was way behind and probably in danger of having missed too many days that semester. The same could be said for all of my packmates who had been out fighting evil and hiding from dragons for just as many days as I had been. So we all walked together to the principal’s office to find out if Mr. Short was going to require us to do anything other than to make up our missing work. “Well, well, well,” he began folding his arms and looking at me like he was my father and he’d caught me sneaking in past curfew. “If it isn’t Harlow Nightingale.” “Hello, Mr. Short, sir,” I said. “We are back.”
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I had no idea what to do about Melanie’s disappearance or the new revelation that there are apparently such a thing as wood nymphs, which I thought perhaps someone should’ve told me about prior to me being introduced to one. Standing there in the middle of the forest, in the middle of the night, on a school night, mind you, I was growing more and more frustrated by the second.I finally decided I needed help with this, so I materialized a cell phone and called Maggie. She was the only person I could think of who might be able to help me, and I figured it was the middle of the day in France so at least I wouldn’t be waking her up.She answered pretty quickly, probably recognizing that it had to be urgent for me to be calling her at that time. “Hi, Harlow. What’s going on?” she asked, a tinge of nervousness in her voice.
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