"Erikson, what are you daydreaming about in class again?"
On the podium of the classroom, Teacher Natarili held a pointer, rapping it against the blackboard with severity, loudly rebuking him.
Erikson sat somewhat dazed in the classroom. He didn't know why this room was called a classroom, but he just knew it was called a classroom.
He also didn't know how many times he had come to this classroom, but he vaguely felt it was familiar, very familiar, familiar to the point of knowing Teacher Natarili's name and character.
Familiar to the point of knowing the name of every juvenile dragon sitting in this classroom.
Erikson habitually lifted his paw, very small, so small that it was just like the other juvenile dragons obediently sitting behind their desks, still a soft pink little paw.
So he scratched his head and looked towards his teacher, Natarili.
