Camulus is also looking cranky. But then again, he always looks cranky.
Right now, he's looking cranky in the general direction of mimoth-mangled poetry and rewriting his lesson plans. The old ones now resided somewhere in the digestive tract of one of the wee beasties.
"Apologise to whom?" Camulus asked, thoroughly distracted as he attempted to find some way to describe the dann direach while Mochta composed in the back of his head.
Camulus snarled. "Even if . . ." he trailed off, unsure how to say this. He tried again. "Even if Mochta apologised, it's still my face I'm losing to her."
Right now, he's looking cranky in the general direction of mimoth-mangled poetry and rewriting his lesson plans. The old ones now resided somewhere in the digestive tract of one of the wee beasties.
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"You should apologize." he said after a seeing what Camulus was doing, "It'd make you happier."
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He is smirking slightly as he shoots a sutry glance over his sholder.
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There was no way Camulus was letting him out again if he could help it.
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Camulus snarled. "Even if . . ." he trailed off, unsure how to say this. He tried again. "Even if Mochta apologised, it's still my face I'm losing to her."
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