Flipping through her textbook to get to the right page, Wesley's elbow bumped her quill, sending it over the desks edge. Scooting her chair back, the first year bended over to pick up her writing utensil and saw...

water.

Not again. Not again. Not again, she thought feverishly, panic beginning to well in her and instincts telling her to bolt.

The tiny girl turned to her professor for directions, eyes wide with fear.