Sample: literate, Final Fantasy CC. Group.
Already, the day was hot and humid, even with the sky cloudy and dark. It didn't look like fair weather was ahead, not at all. The time was nearing noon, Sah Nin figured, judging by the short, broken shadows cast beneath the trees nearby. The Selkie had perched itself on a fence near the center of town; to be factual, she was the center of town. The fence was the one that lead up the stone steps behind Tipa's large crystal savior.
Annoyed, she kicked her feet, letting them thud softly on the wood stakes, shaking the fence. Sitting a good five feet off the ground, usually Sah Nin wouldn't play with weak wood and the law of gravity, but today the weather and mission ahead had made her testier than usual. Today was the day the Caravanners met to resume their mission to collect Myrrh, and while most were home packing their things after their month long break, Sah Nin hovered, steaming, in the nastiness of the day. She had already packed, choosing to prepare herself over sleep (but really, sleep didn't come often lately).
The Selkie brushed her fair hair from her eyes, looking from side to side. A few villagers were milling about in the shady heat, casting wary glances at the dark sky before returning to their business. Sah Nin sighed loudly, gruffly; if it was her decision to make, the caravan would leave early in the morning, before even the rooster awoke... "Sani, Sani," she muttered, testing her new nickname out, rolling it with her tongue in an effort to pass the time. Her mother had called her it accidently only a week before, and everyone seemed to rather attached to it already.
Sample: literate, school. Group.
The way to Mistlethwaite was a long, dull road -- the only thing for miles at a time that could be seen were fields or crops. The taxi driver sighed with a grimace, counting down how long it would be before that obnoxious, crying cat would be out of his taxi. It didn't help that it's owner seemed to sleep right through the wretched noise. Finally, within a half an hour, they had pulled up to the school and the boy had been awaken with a loud, "Oi!"
Luka awoke groggily, still downright tired from his flights around the world. Australia to South Africa, to Egypt, to France, then the underground train to Britain. And now a taxi, driven to his home of four great years. He pulled himself out of the taxi, Yegor's pet carrier in one hand, while the driver got himself out of the car and around to the trunk to grab his bag. The exchange that took place was simple: pay the man, receive his belongings, and mutter a weary good-bye. The sports star looked up at the building, a small smile on his face as he listend to the taxi drive off, as well as Yegor's overwhelmingly angry voice.
The cat was something of a beast: it weighed twenty pounds or so, all muscle. There wasn't an ounce of fat on Yegor, and he used his size (the tip of his ears brushed Luka's knees) to the best of his ability: fighting, attacking, killing birds and rodents. The tom was a monster. Luka sized and dropped to his knees and openned the cage, watching as Yegor darted out with a hiss and into the bushes. Ever since Luka's freshman year, when the cat bit into a student, it was forced to live outside, but there weren't any complaints. They level of rats and mice dropped dramatically, much to the joy of the cafeteria and grounds workers.
The bushes rustled for a moment, then stilled, and Luka decided to head inside, pulling out a pamphlet from his back pocket: it gave instructions for students, as well as their class list and room number. Room five, same as last year.
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