01-03-2020, 12:29 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby had always been stuck in a bit of an odd position. He was not particularly intelligent, nor especially talented. He was not a fast learner, nor did he have a very wide skill set. Yet here he was, doing a job that assumed all of the above. Most people assumed all of the above. The only things he could think of that might point to intelligence were his love of reading and emotional intelligence.
He was not a stranger to sadness, either. Loss had plagued much of the past year, clogging his thoughts with that of the past. Arrow, Pastel, Leroy. And while two of those people had come back, their deaths had still been haunting. But he was also not a stranger to joy. He found it in many things. His friends, his family, his books, his plants... the list was endless.
He approached gingerly, not wanting to crowd the unfamiliar child. For now, he would simply watch. Speak when spoken to.
He was not a stranger to sadness, either. Loss had plagued much of the past year, clogging his thoughts with that of the past. Arrow, Pastel, Leroy. And while two of those people had come back, their deaths had still been haunting. But he was also not a stranger to joy. He found it in many things. His friends, his family, his books, his plants... the list was endless.
He approached gingerly, not wanting to crowd the unfamiliar child. For now, he would simply watch. Speak when spoken to.