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The Guild

"I haven't even eaten yet," you protest. As if to echo this sentiment, your stomach growls.

Hearing this, Blake gives a weary sigh and watches you at length for a moment before shrugging in defeat. Apparently, now that he knows you're not just trying to weasel your way out of work, he's trying to level with you. "Look, I know it sucks, and someone should have woken you up earlier, but if we don't go soon then Mother will get into one of her moods. You know how that will turn out." He stepped outside of your room again, pulling the door to a little as he did. "If you want to go and risk breakfast, then go ahead - it's your funeral. I'll wait outside." With another annoyingly long creak, the door shut behind him, leaving you alone in your room to listen to the oh-so-interesting sounds of him walking downstairs.

Blake did have a point. If you were to go and get the chores over with, that would be that, and maybe Mother would allow you a snack when you got home. Or you could go down anyway and see if you couldn't just speedily wolf down your food.