Wednesday, dressed in her striped black and white Nevermore uniform, sat on a bench reading an older, leather-bound book—peeled and torn, as her eyes flickered towards the sudden crunching beneath leaves.

For a moment, she rest the old book on her lap and snapped her lifeless, dark doe-eyes at the figure.

“To what do I owe the displeasure? I have yet to see you around these corridors. You must be rather new…”