#ingukia!!

“Mhmm, yeah thanks for the advice, kid. Not like I haven’t tried.” Since waking up from the rock slide many years ago in his homecaves, the bot’s inner clock had always been, for lack of a better term, completely fucked up. Not quite insomnia, but he did have a form of narcolepsy that led the man to fall unconscious at the worst of times. He’d beg the Elven overlords for the same right now, but was obviously being punished for something he didn’t know he did.

Rubbing his eyes, Inguk sighed. A large puff of steam escaped his lips and he sat next to the witch student. “Guess we’re in the same boat. I get it.” Easier for him to simply give instruction than make humble, happy suggestions. But when you can’t sleep you can’t sleep. Thanks to the way he was built, he didn’t look exhausted the way she did, but the normally bronze tone of his eyes turned copper and the whirring of his inner pistons were quiet. He reached over to one of her books and closed it.

“... want to make jewelry with me till one of us conks out? I can make an excuse you were helping me with my classes

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The moment 'kid' fell from his lips the stubborn look on her face temporarily dropped as she snorted softly. He was the only teacher she could think of that called her that without it feeling demeaning or rude to her quite long life span. She had been prepared for an argument on why sleep was for the weak and her father had not raised a quitter, but it never came. Instead Inguk had sighed sounfing almost as tired as she felt lately and sat down.

Green eyes watched him for a moment when he offered up a new suggestion and stifling a yawn she nodded. She had been at the books for hours, a break couldn't hurt and an actual excuse to not have to go to class was extremely tempting for the witch.

Shoving a pile of books away she nodded again stretching as she stood.

The tired way with which she rubbed her eyes betrayed the fact that she was exhausted and yet still the witches head emphatically shook left and right in answer to Inguk’s voice. 

‘I’m not tired.’ She stubbornly signed as she dragged her gaze away from the books and papers surrounding her. They had all begun to blur at this point but she couldn’t stop there was too much to do. 

‘You go to bed...’ That one was signed with an almost childish narrowing of her eyes and lift of her chin, not quite characteristic of the usually respectful witch, but that was what running on fumes did to a person. 

The grimace on his face was easy to see and he didn’t even try to hide it. Inguk was a caring bot so seeing other’s in pain or struggling did hurt him, even if he wasn’t always so open or emotional about it.

Then again, with hard work, struggles, and mistakes comes success and bright future. Especially so with these students who were trying to learn more or better themselves, it might be necessary. Well, at least until before someone passes out.

“Looks more like the spell is gonna finish you.” He huffed-chuckled, finding her persistence admirable. “Have you tried relaxing? You seem awfully set on cementing your feet to the ground. Keep your thoughts a bit less ‘chicken-with-its-head-cut-off’ and maybe the spell will follow, yeah?” He honestly didn’t know magic, but as a teacher and mentor, some general advice was worth a try.

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For a moment a sour look passed across her features at the thought of being referred to as a dying chicken, but then she caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the glass of the door and realized he was quite correct. She was trying to ground herself because the magic from her opponent had quite literally knocked her off her feet more than once, and their professor was a sadist, of this she was sure. Most of the bruises she bore were from him and his example attacks. But she wasn’t going to give up. 

Maybe relaxing would help and so she rolled her shoulders, took a deep breath and closed her eyes trying to focus, meditate, visualize knocking the smarmy bastard right on his back and -

Nothing.