#mr.forkle

Mr.Forkle: How did you break your leg?

sophie, after mr.forkle is keeping more secrets: let’s do the fork in the garbage disposal

Sophie studied his eyes, still not seeing Sir Astin staring back at her. "You're not Alden, Right?" Mr. Forkle laughed. "Even with every elixir ever made, I could never be that handsome."

"Actually, I'd like you to assist with Miss Foster's and Mr. Vacker's training. Your skills as an Empath will be invaluable." Biana giggled. "What?" Fitz asked. "Oh, nothing," she said. "The three of you training together and working with emotions? I don't see how /anything/ could go wrong there."

"Okay, you guys are doing that /staring into each other's eyes/ thing," Keefe said, "and it's a lot creepier when it's Sophorkle."

Mr. Forkle cleared his throat. "I suggest you all head to bed. Is anyone willing to share their room?" "Of course," Sophie said, quickly adding,"I meant with /Linh/." "I guess I'll take Alvar with me," Fitz said. "Actually, I'd rather bunk with Keefe." Alvar turned to the group and whispered, "Fitz is a cuddler."

Because humans lost the right to our assistance when they violated our treaty and prepared for war. We even tried to help them secretly afterward. But they took the gifts we gave them and twisted them into weapons, or bargaining chips for their political agendas, or soggy, chemical-filled Twinkies.