Board Thread:RolePlay/@comment-34411796-20190519223524/@comment-34411796-20190520002513

Myrelle patted down her hair before she streamed inside Foxfire along with the other students. Her green uniform was a beacon among a group of Level Fives she couldn't get around. She didn't really have a group of friends to go to, despite being a Foster. Being a Foster meant people clung to her, wanting to be friends with her because her parents had defeated the Neverseen. They never stayed though. They were all fake.

Myrelle managed to squish inbetween two conversing Level Five girls, and stood near the edge of a group of Level Fours. Her year. She tried to blend in, hoping no one would notice her.