Elara looked up from the corner of her eye as Amberine approached, her normally stoic face softened by the unmistakable bags under her eyes. Maris was slumped over her desk, staring at nothing in particular, while Amberine herself felt a familiar, dull ache beneath her eyelids. None of them had gotten enough sleep—something had kept them all up last night, gnawing at their thoughts.
"You look like you got run over by a horse," Amberine muttered as she dropped into the seat beside Elara, her voice laced with dry sarcasm.