Procrastination

Procrastination should be frowned upon. Xerde held his pencil above a scrap of paper, sighing out. Much of this month was spent usually out in the forest. The trees. The foliage. Atop the greenhouse. Watching others get attacked, watching plants attempt to attack him through the glass. The Worst Greenhouse was his favourite perch, his body a tantalizing bit of prey for the trapped plants.

However, his dilly-dallying had resulted in this. Crammed to a corner of a cramped library, he spread the notes of runes across a table. Using this, he claimed the corner as his. No one else was allowed to the area- attempting to join him resulted in more notes being spread. A silent quip to say “Do not sit here” or “Occupied”.

Yet even without distractions, he found himself quite at a loss.

His name was spelled before him in the careful runes, the lead of his pencil worn. He dug against the paper, making it a dark grey with each stroke. The message was a tad bit strange, however.

The first thought was that his name meant protection in the day. While on a journey. While riding a horse? Maybe from a horse. Both? Riding a horse, and getting bucked off? Protection from being trampled? Yet what about night?

He pushed the digits of his fingers through his hair. Stress pulsed strong in his veins. He should not have procrastinated up to the day prior of the due date. If he wanted, he could perhaps scrap the two Es in his name, leaving it XRD. It could remain pronounced the same- sir-day. Could it not? Though some people in his classes might think it pronounced zerd. They might be obnoxious about it. It was nerve-wracking enough having to step up before the class, and introduce himself.

His hands fell to the paper, the lead dust pressing fingerprints to the page. Movement smeared it, giving it a rustic appearance. Though the scrap was new, it suddenly seemed well used. Xerde had kept himself almost obsessively clean when writing out his name. Now he just stared with dulled eyes at his product.

Yet he seemed to like it.

The demon pulled himself upright in the chair. No newfound zest sparked in his eyes, however. Could he seem to act as if he spent all month on this assignment, just with a few careful leaden smears? Picking up the pencil absently discarded, he sighed out again. Probably not. At least, however, he could turn something in, couldn’t he?

Leaning over the page, he began again.