Ronan sighed to himself as he listened to the story for at least the thousandth time since the 'event', as he'd dubbed it in his mind, occured. He didn't really understand why everyone seemed so excited about it. Siyat always seemed to react like that when a male made innapropriate overatures. It's what she did. But, for some strange reason, this time all the other cadets where buzzing like bees in springtime over it.
Of course, this male was the most popular and, according to the girls, the 'dreamiest' one of them all. Maybe that was why...
As the story started again, he lost his patience and slammed his book shut, drawing stares of shock from his peers, and a glare from the librarian. He flashed the elderly woman a winning smile, and her normally sour features softened a little. The poor old gal was used to young people who wanted nothing to do with books, and had to be forced to study. Someone like Ronan, who read for pleasure...well, he was her favorite, and because of that, he got away with more where she was concerned.
"When you children," he began, deep voice calm and even, "are through repeating the same dull story, come fetch me and I shall rejoin your ranks. Until then, I want nothing to do with you." He bowed mockingly, then placed his book back upon the shelf before nodding to the librarian and heading back to his room.
He was a tall young man, six feet and still growing slowly, but he wasn't lanky because of it. The boys who'd thought Ronan would be an easy target just because he liked to read where quickly shown the error of their ways. Years of weapons training had built up his muscles and stamina, and his height gave him a slight advantage to boot.
Ronan was an oddity in the academy, in coloring as well as attitude. His skin was fair and pale even after years of outdoor work, and his eyes were a deep sea-green color that shifted like the ocean he grew up by. His hair, though...that was what most people noticed when they tilted their heads up to look at him. It was a deep and unmistakable red, and he kept it long enough to fall between his shoulder blades when it was down. Normally though, he kept it in a low ponytail or a loose braid, depending on his mood.
As he walked through the corridors, he continued to muse over the story, much to his own chagrin. What he needed, he decided as he sped up his feet, was to go to the quiet of his room and study a bit. Yes, that would do it.
Except that now it was almost time for dinner, and the whispers would be even worse there. Ronan let out a groan that startled the servant he passed, and set a group of newer, younger female trainees to twittering. He rolled his eyes and changed course, hoping the supper hour would pass quickly so he could escape to the sanctuary of his room.
