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She'd begun to try and treat it as a game. If she outran, outhid or outlasted him, maybe he would give up. Hollandaise was still frightened - there was a not-so-subtle air of malice that gleamed in his teeth and followed every footstep. But, if she pretended it was a game (and she was getting very good at pretending), she could get through her day. The nights were still beyond her; Hollandaise did not sleep very much anymore. She supposed there were moments when her tormentor slept, too, but they seemed irregular. During the night, she sat wide-eyed, hearing the scratches at her door. But during the day, she could pretend and run and fool herself just a little bit.

So that's exactly what she was doing.

Hollandaise checked shadows and took them before he could. She skirted corners and made sure not to enter rooms alone. There was a close call in one classroom and she had skittered away, sweat blossoming on her brow. Because she was so focused on avoiding, Hollandaise often neglected to look where she was going. She had already brushed uncomfortably close to several other students and-

...thump

-now she could count actually running into one on her list of inattentive blunders for today. She was so surprised that normally collected warder actually screamed.

She looked at the boil, a thousand apologies begging to drip out of her mouth. Instead, her eyes glistened. When she wasn't moving, she felt the stress, the constant weight of her fear, on her back like a burden she could never loosen. Hollandaise breathed in noisily, her eyes darting to the shade behind the boil. The dark circles under them had not lightened recently, even with the occasional night spent out of her own dorm room.

"I'm t-terribly sorry; are you alright?" she said haltingly. And to her mortification, a tear rolled fatly down her cheek. She wiped it away with one quick hand, but stayed on the floor where she'd also fallen.

If Hollandaise had been a little less sleep-deprived and a little more in possession of her normal faciliates, she would have simply apologized and headed on her merry way. As it was, she stared up into Jory's distressed face, her own expressions mirroring his. With a distinct sniffle (she tried to hide it and was unsuccessful), she took the boil's hand and slowly straightened up.

"I'm sorry," she said lowly, suddenly finding the ground very interesting to look at. "It was entirely my fault. B-but... " She did not want to look up - an irrational fear had blossomed in her over the past weeks, that any shadows she did not have her eye on could contain someone who was, in essence, her stalker. He could be anywhere. "Could you do me a favor? Is there anyone around? Or, ah," she bit her lips, feeling supremely embarrassed,tired, and anxious all in one. "anything in the shadows?" She could not be collected at a time like this. If they saw her, her Elders would surely laugh.

Hollandaise watched the boil search. Somehow, she felt a little more at ease. It was when she was alone that he seemed to follow her more - when there was no else else to ask 'did you see that too?' He returned, having seen nothing - and Hollandaise had not expected him to find anything at all. The shadow hound was too quick and seemed to melt away with a thought at times. She hesitated when he touched her arm.

"I know it was a strange request, but t-thank you." Hollandaise did not want to embroil her friends in any part of this. She had not told Deszeld or anyone. She had not even spoken to Aisha is days. But this boil, he was removed. Still, she hesitated a moment before sighing creakily. "Someone is following me. To class, to my dorm, everywhere."

Hollandaise pulled a lock of her hair over one shoulder and began to braid it nervously. That he hadn't see anything was great, but that didn't mean her follower wasn't hiding around the next corner or something. This boil though, seemed so utterly nonthreatening. It was nice.

"They leave me notes - 'I'm waiting's and 'sleep tight' and 'you won't be alone's. They come into my room when I'm not there and write things on my walls, scratch things into the door. They are always there." She babbled, the pupils in her eyes widening, threatening to swallow her golden irises. Hollandaise was tired, so very tired of being followed, of feeling alone, of being told to 'just deal with it'. It had never even occurred to her to tell a teacher - she had gone to the warders and they had ignored her.

"Tell a professor? Why?m Could they help?"

'Be careful who you ask.'

Hollandaise wondered if a professor would just tell her to deal with it herself. The note from the Elders lay in her desk - she couldn't bring herself to throw it away. At least, not yet. It was a reminder that by coming here, she had somehow unknowingly renounced her past and would not gain it back ungil they determined she was ready. Every hysterical emotion she felt - the fear, the anger, every thud thud of her fear-born heart as she listened to the scrape of claws against her door - they were all markers of her weakness. Indicators of just how unreeady she was. And wasn't it funny (she tried to make herself laugh about it sometimes, and always failed) that a creature made to scare was afraid of another?

She gave Jory a tenative, shaky smile, vaguely sensing his unease. He was only trying to help. Her hands still twisted around each other in nerve-ridden circles and she forced them to stop, dropping them down to rest against her thighs. "The art teacher? Ah, why her? Though, thank you for your advice... I will consider it." Her golden eyes darted to each side of the boil.

"I don't know many teachers yet; I'm still pretty new here." She forced her hands to stop moving (although they still shook, just slightly), her back to straighten. The fact that she had been so weak as to ask for help appalled her on some level - this was why she was here. Hollandaise could not handle herself and her own issues. Weakness. But when she looked at Jory, she was thankful for him, just a bit; he had halted the slow spiraling game of shadow-watching. For now, at least.

Her mouth opened to refuse his offer, but she paused. In the game of weaknesses, what was one more tiny one? A drop of water in a pail. Hollandaise tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. One drop led to another and another and another until everything overflowed. It was enough. "I... I, no. No, but thank you. I will be alright - my destination is just a few rooms away. Your advice is useful and for that, I thank you." Suddenly, a full smile blossomed on her lips, a toothy smile.

"I will repay you sometime," she said, then began to dart down the hallway.