Post by Colleen on Apr 7, 2020 14:56:54 GMT
(February 7th, before supper time, open to the Enchanted Stars!)
Colleen sat with her back nestled against a huge tree trunk, her hind end supported by a large rock leaning out of the grass. This way she was comfortable, but still in an elevated position. It was no desk at the front of the third grade room in SH Academy, but then, she was determined to miss nothing about Zootopia.
The collie’s sound white fingers were deftly sorting through a wicker basket covered in purple cloth. Her little class was assembling below. It was better to be in this wooded clearing because a majority of the children in the Enchanted Suns were animals...and not the upright, civilized kind. That was all right. Colleen fancied herself a growing expert of the Merged Worlds—or at least, one day she would be. And if she was going to show her Father a scholarly award, perhaps presented by King Richard himself, she couldn’t be frightened by a few naked bairns.
The Fire-and-snow canine propped herself up a little straighter and adjusted the edge of her blouse, leaning forward to look at the crowd over the lip of the boulder. A playful smile, the kind that normally won the hearts of students to a charming schoolteacher, wrinkled her snout.
”Ach, look at my hard workers! Finished your chores an’ ready for class already. Ye almost didn’t give me enough time to get my...” she trailed her Scottish accent out dramatically, increasing suspense, before swinging the covered basket out and holding it up high. ”Mystery basket ready!”
The coffee eyes twinkled. It was easy to forget that her father hadn’t answered any of the letters sent to Lambsley since joining the war, and it was easy to forget a certain ruffian’s pointed face, and it was easy to forget Zootopia’s delicious chocolate treats when she was doing this. In her element.
Any good teacher knew it was important to keep your students interested in new ways. Especially when your class was so unorthodox and experimental. She had cubs and does and kids of all ages, different species, and different worlds all mashed together. Some of them knew nothing and some seemed to know everything, and they all probably found the war around them more interesting than the welding of worlds or the different governments associated with each. But it was her job to keep their attention. She was better at this than helping out in the medical field, anyway.
”I thought we’d try a special game to test yer memories t’day. Who thinks they can guess the most objects of the class? An’ on an empty stomach no less!” Her eyebrows jumped authoritatively at the same time as one scolding finger. ”Ah! Raised paws!”
Or hands.
Colleen sat with her back nestled against a huge tree trunk, her hind end supported by a large rock leaning out of the grass. This way she was comfortable, but still in an elevated position. It was no desk at the front of the third grade room in SH Academy, but then, she was determined to miss nothing about Zootopia.
The collie’s sound white fingers were deftly sorting through a wicker basket covered in purple cloth. Her little class was assembling below. It was better to be in this wooded clearing because a majority of the children in the Enchanted Suns were animals...and not the upright, civilized kind. That was all right. Colleen fancied herself a growing expert of the Merged Worlds—or at least, one day she would be. And if she was going to show her Father a scholarly award, perhaps presented by King Richard himself, she couldn’t be frightened by a few naked bairns.
The Fire-and-snow canine propped herself up a little straighter and adjusted the edge of her blouse, leaning forward to look at the crowd over the lip of the boulder. A playful smile, the kind that normally won the hearts of students to a charming schoolteacher, wrinkled her snout.
”Ach, look at my hard workers! Finished your chores an’ ready for class already. Ye almost didn’t give me enough time to get my...” she trailed her Scottish accent out dramatically, increasing suspense, before swinging the covered basket out and holding it up high. ”Mystery basket ready!”
The coffee eyes twinkled. It was easy to forget that her father hadn’t answered any of the letters sent to Lambsley since joining the war, and it was easy to forget a certain ruffian’s pointed face, and it was easy to forget Zootopia’s delicious chocolate treats when she was doing this. In her element.
Any good teacher knew it was important to keep your students interested in new ways. Especially when your class was so unorthodox and experimental. She had cubs and does and kids of all ages, different species, and different worlds all mashed together. Some of them knew nothing and some seemed to know everything, and they all probably found the war around them more interesting than the welding of worlds or the different governments associated with each. But it was her job to keep their attention. She was better at this than helping out in the medical field, anyway.
”I thought we’d try a special game to test yer memories t’day. Who thinks they can guess the most objects of the class? An’ on an empty stomach no less!” Her eyebrows jumped authoritatively at the same time as one scolding finger. ”Ah! Raised paws!”
Or hands.
