'16th of March, eleven hundred hours. Well, eleven twenty-five to be exact. Having to trek all the way back, we had to take a stop at Wensteter Village again.
At dawn, we shot straight for this castle. Same as before—other than the rain pouring down outside thudding every brick to echo down the hallways. Oh, and the mad detective scurrying around throwing every book left in the place-'
"Thud-tock!" "Not that one," Fumeko was on the tips of her toes, her arms stretched up into the bookshelves.
"Tis a charming study, if there be not the homes of arachnids in every bend. The heavens sorrows hamper luminosity this chamber so deeply would be drenched in otherwise," Tiffany, like a prissy noble, inched away from the cobwebs—her nose in a wrinkle.
Jotou had her arms crossed while she examined the room, careful of the dust, "I like the rain, but I think this castle wasn't built with weatherproofing in mind." Her blonde locks were all frizzy as she turned.
