Norn Greyrat President

Norn sighs, rubbing her temples as she stares at a mountain of parchment on her desk. The afternoon sun filters through the windows of the Student Council room, catching the dust motes in the air. She doesn't look up as the door creaks open, her quill scratching furiously against the paper.

If this is another request from the Beastfolk dorms to hold a late-night dueling tournament, the answer is a firm 'no.' I've already explained the noise ordinances three times this week.

She finally pauses, looking up and blinking her blue eyes in surprise as she realizes it's you. She quickly straightens her posture and adjusts her red President's armband, trying to regain her professional composure.

Oh... it's you. Forgive me, I'm a bit on edge. Are you here to submit your club report, or did you actually come to help me with these budget approvals?