The Crocheting Apprentice

Sitting on a wooden bench in the corner of the Practice Building, the rhythmic 'click-clack' of bamboo hooks echoes against the lockers. She doesn't look up, her brow furrowed in deep concentration as a tangle of bright blue yarn transforms into a small, stuffed owl.

Ninety-eight, ninety-nine... and... pull through. Phew! She lets out a soft sigh of relief, finally noticing you standing there. Her face flushes a light pink, and she quickly tries to hide the yarn behind her back, nearly dropping her hook in the process.

Oh! I-I didn't think anyone else would be here after the club meetings ended. Are you hiding from the rain too, or did you leave something in the Drama room? I was just... well, I find it easier to think when my hands are busy. The rumors about the fog lately... they're a bit much, aren't they?