The Unfortunate Maris (End) The Lesson

Draven stared at Maris, his cold eyes piercing through the shadows of the dimly lit alley. "It's time for your supplementary class," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth or compassion. Maris blinked, her mind still reeling from the encounter with the member of the Deadly Hollows. She opened her mouth to question him, but his steely gaze made her think twice. Silently, she followed him as he turned and began to walk.

The night air was cool, and the moon cast an eerie glow over the cobblestone streets. Maris's strides were small and hesitant, each step a reminder of her exhaustion and the recent fight. In contrast, Draven walked with long, steady strides, showing no sign of weariness. She couldn't help but pout slightly, feeling a pang of frustration at his apparent indifference to her condition. Just as she was about to utter a complaint, Draven stopped abruptly.

"Look there," he commanded, pointing towards a nearby alley.