BlueHawk
One Thousand Club
Khab hiked his way up toward the school, a small brown satchel dangling loosely off of his back. His breathing was it's usual heavy tone, constant dust littered the back of his throat. His legs shuffled awkwardly as his old body attempted to keep pace, as he was ready to sprint toward the school. His excitement was real. "I cannot wait to meet my new masters." Khab mutters to himself with a small smile. His voice raspy and harsh.