The eve of Choosing Day

Choosing Day. Tomorrow. Amy grimaced at her rice, attempting to swallow her food. On normal occasions, she would have appreciated the rice, but now... now she met with some difficulty with swallowing, but, she paid little attention to it, for her thoughts wandered to tomorrow, anticipating the day's event. She was sure that at... after lunch, she and her wardmates would be called to the Baron's office. There, she would be in front of all the Craft Masters present in Merric Fief. Her nerve, no doubt, would fail her, despite her being a tough girl, and it seemed unlikely that first, they would wait outside, then as her turn came, she would be summoned into the room with all those Craft Masters. No, the better course to for the adults and the worst course to the ward mates would be to simply be in a room with them, and speak out one by one. Yes, the Baron, and the Masters were... kind, but to say what one wished for in front of them - oh, and let alone those who didn't even know what school to choose... Amy gulped.

She sneaked a peek at the rest of her ward mates present to observe their reaction, who were really just another girl and a boy: Lynn and Dean. She should have known better, for Lynn was quietly eating her food, or so Amy assumed. Her strawberry-blond hair fell down, just narrowly avoiding landing in her food. It covered almost all of her face, parting only at her ear, where it but separated for just a bare inch, then hung down, where, meeting the rough surface of the wooden table, curled up in ovals. Lynn would be guaranteed a place in the Diplomatic School, Amy was sure. She was tall, elegant, diplomatic -even if only a bit. The latter growled silently so that her ward mates wouldn't hear it. Dean... She was quite glad he was facing away from him, although that meant all she could see was his neat brown hair. He tended to make things too complicated, and frequently assumed that he was handsome. ''Bah!'' Amy rolled her eyes upwards.

In truth, Amy didn't know what school she should choose. Diplomatic? Amy scoffed. She? She, who acted more like a boy than a girl, be accepted into that school? Unlikely. That was for girls who behaved like one, not looked like one. Lynn. Take Lynn. She was a perfect, perfect little model student.

But, truth be told, in all accounts, Amy was really just average height, but compared to Dean and Lynn, she felt short, insignificant. She had thick midnight-black hair that fell to past her collarbones, ending at the start of her bosom, and a fringe that persistently grew until she gave up the task of cutting it, and leaving it alone, where it then grew and covered her left eye. She had an ash-like gray for her eyes' color, which certainly demanded the most amount of attention, since her eyes tended to be on the large side. She had a small nose and full lips, but who would care about kissing at this young age? Well, herself, despite her boyish nature. She was still a girl, still a romantic, a softie at heart.

She scowled deeply at her food, all of a sudden losing her appetite as she glared at the fluffy rice. She muttered an unladylike curse, before abruptly standing up, then wished she didn't. The noise that the wooden chair made against the cold stone floor was so screechy, so... just plain awful, it sent shivers down her spine. As it was, wincing mentally, Amy stormed off, leaving behind a very surprised Dean staring after her and Lynn still picking at her food.

Amy sighed, staring out in the sky. She had climbed up a massive tree. It wasn't really large, but when you compared it... it was kind of big - the tree she was on, most probably an oak tree. Or maybe it was a pine tree. But whatever the type, it was a tree perfect for climbing, for it had foot- and hand-holds along the trunk for one to grip on, albeit on rough surfaces. As a result, it caused Amy's knuckles and palms to acquire the odd scar and scratch here and there. Despite that, it was still an excellent tree to... sit on, since it had sprouted several thick branches the width of two severely overweight people and the length of Dean and Lynn put together. It could probably be used for sleeping, except that a) it wasn't hollowed so she could fall down if she turned, b) she'd be missed if she did that - seriously, her ward mates knew how to count and c) how would she look like anyway, sleeping on a branch? Like a demented creature, the answer had popped out almost instanteously.

A groan involuntarily escaped Amy, whose hands roamed around the branch, finding a sharp twig that poked out. It nearly attacked her finger, so, in what Amy felt was an eye for an eye, she tugged at the spot until a reluctant twig peeled off and into Amy's hand. Pleased, she allowed her thoughts to roam away, while her fingers moved around the skinny, fit-for-nothing dead branch. Amy shifted. The seat was... hard, but then it was made of wood, for goodness's sake.

Amy had picked out the thickest branch, which was in reality just thicker by a paltry two or three centimeters. It made for a rough seat, but now, it was slightly smoother, courtesy of Amy's many times of sitting on it. She always had a reason for it, whether be it that she wanted to enjoy the night sky, or if she was depressed, in low sprites, or just apprehensive. As Choosing Day approached, the second explanation became the answer as to her ever-increasing frequent climbs.

What would she do? Or, more specifically, choose? Amy sighed, running her fingers over the rough surface of a twig, dozens of ideas roaming in her mind, tumbling over one another, and making no sense at all, when she attempted to sort it out. She could be a diplomatic, a... a...

SNAP!

Amy froze. Her eyes wide, it was at least two minutes she could break out of the stone statue she had became. The front door was a good bowshot away, so, squinting at the entrance, she thought she saw someone, but dismissed the assumption. As it was, she was pretty sure no one would see her and she could see everyone... below, because underneath where she was hiding, a thick blanket of leaves covered her from eyes, allies or unfriendly. She could sight everybody, well partly anyway. The layer of leaves worked two ways; a) it protected her from being spotted, and b) it prevented her from seeing anyone.

Now that she was certain no one was out, her mind quizzed endlessly about the source of the noise, until finally, Amy felt a coarse powder in her hand, her left hand, the hand that held the miserable, withered little branch. She glanced down, and upon seeing the broken twig, a rare, true smile touched her lips. With the sound associated as the twig snap, Amy breathed in slowly, smelling the pleasant scent that came from this and that. Her head leaned against the trunk, eyes closing as she gingerly relaxed in the soothing embrace of the peaceful night.

She was lost in her dreams, until a sentence shattered the silence. Amy's eyes snapped opened, as a sentence danced towards her ears -

''Knew I'd find you here.''

A/N: Lol. Ahahaha this sounds kinda odd. Oo well, I don't care. It was just the last sentence that formed this entire story! O.O'' like, seriously. So from then on the entire plot unravelled in front of me... and I met with a writer's block when I sketched out the details. But, anyway. Kinda glad for it. Takes my mind off the impending exams. XDD

Oh and I still think the story should've been based in Whitby, but I'll have me charries move around the fiefs XDXD. Spoilers, yes. But not till the middle (I guess).