The two young wizards stared at each other, bags with their sparse belongings clutched to their chests. The younger wizard bit her lip, feeling like she should say something but too nervous to open her lips. The other wizard’s stony blue eyes didn’t move from her own. He was
trying to pin down what color they were. Every time he felt like he had decided, they shifted again. He gave up and stuck out his hand.
“Hovsep,” he greeted bluntly. She took his hand.
“Elia.” Their hands dropped to their sides, and, again, they stared.
Nihilistic Porcupine 