"'𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒾'𝒹 𝒷𝓁ℯℯ𝒹 𝓂𝓎𝓈ℯ𝓁𝒻
𝒹𝓇𝓎 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊 ℴ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℴ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃"

Ophelia spent three days at home before she finally agreed to go to school. She spent the time back in Beacon Hills in the forest. All three days. Marcel Gerard's words had hit her like a truck, and even though her family had tried their best to comfort her like Klaus had, all she could think about was that she was and always would be a monster. A cold-blooded, blood-sucking monster. Staying as a wolf for the time allowed her to partially detach from reality. She understands why Malia would have preferred to stay as a coyote; there's something about running through the trees and feeling the wind rush through fur. It's freeing.

When she returns home, she finds Lydia in the backyard with a pile of clothes on the glass table waiting. The banshee gives a small smile as the white wolf trots toward her, and she gently runs her hand along the animal's back, scratching her ears for a moment before allowing her privacy to change. As Ophelia buttons up her jeans, she clears her throat and Lydia turns back around. "Hey," she says quietly. "I, uh, I didn't know you'd be here."

Lydia frowns in concern. "Fi, all you've said since you got back was, 'I'm home.' And that was through a text message." She watches the girl's eyes dart to the ground. "Are you okay?"

Ophelia takes a deep breath and plasters a smile on her face. "Yeah, of course. Sorry, I didn't mean to worry any of you."

Lydia raises her eyebrows. "Come on, you're not okay, you can't lie to me." Her tone softens as she gestures to the spare chair beside her. Ophelia hesitantly takes the seat. "What's going on?"

She swallows. "Well, my family's okay, that's why I was gone, I'm guessing Stiles told you." Lydia nods. "Yeah, we- we saved Klaus and ran into an old... friend." She closes her eyes as Marcel's words ring through her head for the thousandth time today. "He said some things and... I guess it's just put things into perspective."

Lydia stays silent for a few moments. "Can I ask what he said?" she questions quietly.

Ophelia keeps her eyes close as she feels them burn with forming tears. "I guess I've realised that I'm not a very good person." Lydia's eyes widen. "I'm just like everyone else in my family," she whispers. "We're all monsters."

Silently, Lydia takes one of her hands, holding it as she processes what her best friend has just said. "You're not a monster," she finally replies.

"Lydia, I am, and I think deep down you know that I am, and I'm never going to change-"

"Ophelia," she interrupts firmly. The hybrid's lips close quickly at her sharp tone. Lydia turns to look at her, eyes searching the vulnerable face. "You're not a monster," she repeats. "You've done monstrous things." A tear falls down Ophelia's cheek. "But you don't have to do monstrous things. Just because you were born as something that is looked at like what you said doesn't mean you have to live up to that standard. It doesn't matter who or what you were born as. What matters, is who you grow to be."

And these words hit her just as hard as Marcel's had done. But this time Ophelia has an inkling of who is really right and who is wrong. It would take her a long time to accept the fact that Lydia Martin was indeed correct, however, right now Ophelia is able to accept that she doesn't see her the way she had thought. She's able to accept that none of her friends do. Sure, there's been slipups; many slipups... But compared to when they had first met her? Ophelia Stone has proven them all wrong.

The girls drive to school together with a weight lifted off Ophelia's shoulders. She's excited to see everyone, especially Malia, and fill them in on the dramatic story of how she had saved the great Klaus Mikaelson from the brink of death; they don't need to know all the details.

When they finally arrive, they split up to go to their respective lockers, and it's not long before the werecoyote finds her best friend. "Fi!" she shrieks, ignoring the looks sent her way as she races down the corridor and nearly barrels Ophelia over with a hug.

She grunts but quickly breaks out into a smile as she wraps her arms around Malia tightly. "Missed you," she mumbles.

"Missed you more."

"Sorry I went off the grid... I needed some time."

"Don't explain," Malia replies understandingly. "You don't need to."

Ophelia smiles. "Thanks. So, what's been happening here?"

"Nothing," she answers with a sigh of relief. "Literally nothing."

She doesn't know whether to be concerned about that fact or not. "Okay, first period, what do we have?"

When they arrive to the classroom, they immediately stop in the doorway. "Math," Malia whispers in horror.

Ophelia stares at the blackboard with algebra problems written all over it. This is more terrifying than the thought of her family dying. Maybe a little melodramatic, but the point is, Ophelia Stone despises math with every single bone in her body. "We need to leave," she declares urgently.

With eyes wide as she looks at the board, Malia feverishly nods her head in agreement. "Yes, now. Leave now."

However, right as they turn to leave, hands are firmly places on each other shoulders, turning them back around to enter the classroom. Stiles ignores Ophelia's heated glare and continues to push them both inside. "Stiles, I hate math," she hisses.

"It's pointless!" Malia adds in a whisper-yell.

"It's school," he corrects matter-of-factly. As they take their seats, both girls incredibly reluctantly, he states, "School is important, and math is essential."

"Neither of those things are true!" Ophelia argues.

Malia nods. "To what?" she retorts to the boy.

Stiles leans over his desk to talk to them. "Knowing how much to tip at restaurants," he replies.

Ophelia stares at him. "So, I'll move back to England. Problem solved." Malia's eyes light up at her suggestion.

Whilst Stiles' eye twitches at her response, Lydia gives him an unimpressed glare. "And other less important things," she reminds them exasperatedly. "Like medicine, economics, engineering..."

"Tipping," Stiles repeats.

Ophelia sighs. She's not going to argue for the hundredth time that if she someday doesn't want to fail at school, she'll just come back and try again a hundred years later.

"All right, volunteers to the board," Ms Fleming says. She turns around to face the class and points out, "Lydia, Malia, Ophelia."

Ophelia freezes, eyes wide as she stares into the empty space in front of her. Malia is in a similar state, nervously calling out, "Um, I didn't volunteer."

"Neither did I," the hybrid adds. "Actually, picking the volunteers yourself is the complete opposite of the definition of 'volunteering.'"

Their teacher is entirely unsympathetic to both of their anxious expressions. "Well, you did now. To the board," she instructs.

In sync, they turn around to Stiles whose encouraging smile immediately slips off his face. Malia angrily growls at him for forcing her to come into the class in the first place and Ophelia leans over and punches his shoulder lightly (she doesn't want to seriously hurt him.)

The Stone doesn't even bother glancing at the equation. She's not doing it. She gave up the second she had walked into the classroom. No, she had given up at the beginning of the year. Lydia glances to her friends and finds Malia frozen after having written 'x ='. Sensing the werecoyote's alarm, she whispers, "Did you go over the notes I gave you?"

"I didn't understand them," Malia responds quietly. She turns to the brunette beside her. "Did you understand them?"

Lydia snorts. "Oh, I didn't bother giving her any." When Malia raises her brows in confusion, she elaborates. "Fi gave up on school in general about eleven months ago."

"Wasn't that your first day?"

Ophelia curtly nods. "Point made," she says simply.

The strawberry blonde glances behind her to check the teacher is occupied before murmuring, "X equals twenty-five." Malia sighs in relief from the much-needed support and gives her an appreciative look as she writes the answer on the board. As Lydia finishes writing her own, she adds, "And sweetheart? Put away the claws." Malia's eyes widen in alarm as she looks down to her hands. Lydia brushes past Ophelia, warning, "Eyes."

Immediately, she closes them. It's only been a little over a month since Ophelia had fully been rid of the nogitsune, and already she can feel the lasting effects the ritual has given her. Every day she finds she has to put more effort into controlling herself, whether it's the bloodlust, overpowering someone with her strength, accidentally flashing her crimson eyes, or unsheathing her claws. And boy does she hate it.

Ophelia takes Malia's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze to remind her that she's okay. In return, the girl gives her a small smile, and when she looks back down to her fingers the claws are gone.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ｡ ⋆

Ever since math had finished, Stiles Stilinski had been in a horrible mood. He had filled the group in that he had gotten an alert on his phone from the news that a triple homicide case was developing. To his absolute delight, almost all his friends had said it was nothing to worry about. Nothing about a triple homicide screams supernatural, so in their opinion, there was no need to delve into it.

All except Ophelia Stone. After living in Mystic Falls for a certain period of time, she quickly realised that they couldn't go long without some kind of supernatural or magical catastrophe. So, she agreed with Stiles wholeheartedly. Even if it's just an axe murderer, there's something about it that makes her believe it's not just a normal axe murderer. Like Malia had said earlier, they've had a week of peace and quiet since Derek and Kate. In her perspective, that's one week too long.

However, Scott had managed to convince them both to stay at school for the rest of the day. After all, there were lacrosse trials at the end of the day and that Ophelia wanted to see firsthand.

She, Malia, and Kira head down to the field, the figures of the team warming up visible in the distance. She can vaguely hear Coach's shrill whistle blow numerous times. "No, I'm telling you, they haven't improved at all," she says. "Actually, if it's possible, they've gotten worse."

"Stiles or Scott?"

Ophelia purses her lips. "Let's be real, Stiles has never been that good, and Scott... yeah, he's gotten worse. Much worse." Kira's eyes widen in alarm as she glances to the girl on the phone.

"Does Coach miss me?" Isaac Lahey asks.

"Once he sees how shit they are, absolutely," she confirms. Malia chuckles. "So, how's France? Drunk any nice wine? Seen the giant, metal tower? Hooked up with any girls? Or guys? Oh, how's the cheese? Man, I miss French cheese."

The werewolf on the other side of the phone rolls his eyes at her ramble. "It's good," he responds with a smile. "Lots, yes, yes, yes, and amazing."

Ophelia grins. "That's my boy. Is Boyd there?"

"Hey, Fi!" Vernon Boyd yells. "We miss you!"

"Miss you more, idiots." Her smile falters when they finally make it down to the lacrosse field. "Okay, I gotta go-"

"Stone!" Coach shouts, quickly gaining her attention. She arches a brow. "Who're you talking to?"

Her eyes squint slightly at the question but she yells back, "Lahey."

"Ah. Tell him he made a terrible decision leaving and he'll regret it for the rest of his life!"

Isaac clicks his tongue. "Aw, tell him I miss him, too."

Ophelia snickers. "Bye." The girls make their way up the bleachers, finding a relatively quiet spot for Kira and Ophelia to watch, and Malia to open her precalculus books and attempt to study.

Coach blows his whistle and glances down to his stopwatch as one group of the team finishes running laps. "Terrible," he comments. The insults progressively get worse. "Horrifying! Pathetic. Unbelievably pathetic. Is that everyone?" Finally, Stiles makes it to the end, panting heavily before ultimately collapsing straight onto the grass. "Yep, that's everyone."

Ophelia doesn't bother hiding her loud laughter, the sound only gaining in volume when Stiles sends her his middle finger once Scott helps him up. "Who came in first?" she hears the boy ask. She watches Scott nod over to one of the players doing push ups, seemingly without breaking a sweat. This must be who Stiles had been complaining about to her earlier, the new hot-shot lacrosse player who in his words was, 'a super-human.' She vaguely recalls them saying his name is Liam.

Ophelia's attention turns from the field and onto Malia when she gently nudges her side, then moving to subtly nod her head over to Kira. And it's then does the hybrid notice the suffocating scent of anxiety. "What's wrong with you?" Malia asks bluntly.

"You reek of anxiety," Ophelia continues.

"And it's distracting," Malia adds.

Ophelia looks back to the kitsune and gives her a small smile. "You can talk to us, what's going on?"

Kira heaves a sigh, clutching onto Scott's spare lacrosse stick. "Scott and I sort of had this thing happen," she confesses. "But it wasn't much of a thing. And now I'm starting to think it never was anything at all."

"What do you want it to be?"

At Malia's question, Kira deflates and looks back out to the field with her chin propped up on the lacrosse stick. "More."

Ophelia sighs and gently touches her knee. "Just so you know, he never stops chatting about you." Kira's eyes instantly widen. "Yeah, he doesn't shut up. Trust me, he likes you, he just needs time to properly realise it for himself." A small smile graces the kistune's face.

The girls watch as Stiles struggles to scoop a ball with his stick, eventually just grabbing it in his hand and dropping it into the net himself. Ophelia covers her eyes as she hears the team snickering, but then opens one as he steps forward and launches the ball into the air. Her head drops onto Malia's shoulder when it falls straight into the goalie's net. Liam is next, and, of course, his shot lands in the goal. He's much better than the boys had made him sound earlier. "Yes!" Coach yells enthusiastically.

"Well, fuck," Ophelia states in horror. "It's Jackson all over again!" Scott's head snaps over to her as he hears her words, and she waves a hand at him as his eyes glow at her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you'll do fine," she says dryly.

Scott, in fact, does not do fine. And neither does Stiles. Naturally, Liam makes every single shot whilst her best friends miss all of theirs. Ophelia had expected it from Stiles because it's, well, it's Stiles, and she knows Scott has had other things to worry about than lacrosse, but she hadn't assumed that after a little time off he was going to be this bad. After all, he was once team captain.

Kira winces and leans over to her friends beside her. "Isn't the captain supposed to be one of the best players on the team?" she asks, disheartened. "Or good?"

Ophelia sighs and stands up, rushing down the bleachers and onto the field just as Scott throws his gloves onto the ground in frustration. "Scott!" she hisses. Both himself and Stiles spin around to her in surprise.

"Stone, get off the damn field!"

"Just a second, Coach," she yells back. As she turns back, her eyes soften with a sliver of concern. "Seriously, what the fuck is going on?"

"I don't know," the werewolf says in annoyance. "I'm having a really off day."

"Off day?" Stiles repeats incredulously. "You were dying out there! I feel actual physical pain watching you." Ophelia waves a hand to him in agreement.

"I didn't see you make any shots," Scott retorts to him.

Stiles nods. "Yes, that is because I'm terrible, though, Scott. You... You-"

"You're the Alpha," Ophelia finishes for him.

"Not on the field. I'm a human on the field."

She squints her eyes at him. "Human you is shit at the moment," she says. "Look, if I was you, I'd try being a little less human."

Scott's eyes widen at her insinuation whilst Stiles vigorously nods. "Yes!" he exclaims. "Do you think you can use just, like, a little tiny bit of wolf power?"

The McCall shakes his head. "It's cheating," he counters.

Stiles makes a dramatic gesture. "I know it is! It's just, I hate seeing this little freshman come in and steal all your glory after you worked your tushie off. I hate it."

"He's not going to steal all the glory," Scott insists.

They all look over when they hear cheering from the team and Coach as Liam makes another shot.

Stiles gives him a very pointed look. Ophelia purses her lips together and hums, then places a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Team captain is slipping further and further away, and I will not stand for this little shit to steal it away from you." Scott's eyes flash bright red and she and Stiles share a look with each other, a smile quickly beaming onto her face. "There is a girl over there," she nods to the bleaches, "who wholeheartedly believes in you, so get your bloody act together and go crush that idiot!"

"Stone, get off my field!" Coach shouts, shrilly blowing his whistle at her until his face turns bright red.

Ophelia casts another look to Scott and jogs back to the bleachers. She fills her curious friends in on what she had been doing with the boys, and Malia squints her eyes at Scott gathered in the group circling Coach. "I really don't understand how he was captain," she confesses. "I mean, right now, he doesn't even deserve to be on the team." Kira winces.

"Exactly," Ophelia says emphatically, positive that the True Alpha is listening to their conversation. "He needs to tear this prick apart. Not literally, though, that's my job if it's ever necessary..."

"Is he a werewolf?" Kira questions quietly, eyes on Liam.

The hybrid shakes her head. "Not that I know of."

Coach assigns both Scott and Stiles to grab long sticks and cover the goal for the next drill. Even with all their helmets covering their faces and from the bleachers, Ophelia can tell Liam is heatedly glaring at the two boys in the line. The whistle blows and the first player scoops up the ball and darts forward, Scott and Stiles simultaneously sprinting toward him.

Ophelia's mouth falls open as Scott knocks the stick out of his grasp, sending the boy tumbling to the floor. Surprisingly, they work fairly well together. "Holy shit," she mumbles in shock. Malia's eyes flick between Scott and Stiles, internally asking herself if she'd just imagined what she had just seen. 

"That's my boys!" Coach yells excitedly. "Those two are like sons to me," he proudly tells a pair of players beside him.

Whistle after whistle, Scott and Stiles easily take down every player that comes their way. And they're doing well up until they attempt one of their celebratory chest-bumps. Stiles ends up flying backwards and hitting the ground, but scrambles back up to high-five his best friend as if nothing had happened. 

When Liam steps up, they quickly straighten themselves and watch him swing his stick around to psych them out; something that is successful with Stiles. However, despite the boys' most valiant efforts, Liam effortlessly dodges past Stiles, and then Scott.

"Oh, fuck off!" Ophelia shrieks, quickly standing up to wave a hand in annoyance. When Liam scores a goal, she drops back down onto the bench. "They suck," she admits defeatedly.

Kira sighs. "No, I think he's just really good."

Malia's eyes narrow in anger and she jumps up to yell, "That was luck!" Ophelia vigorously nods her head along in agreement. The werecoyote cups her hands around her mouth as she adds, "Do-over!"

With all the attention on her, Coach turns around. "Sweetheart," Ophelia quietly growls, "there's no do-overs. This is a practice."

"Ten bucks on Scott and Stiles."

Without any hesitation, Coach immediately nods and points a finger to her. "I'll take that action." The three girls grin. "Hey! Get back in there, Liam!"

"Go get him, Scotty," Ophelia whispers, hearing her friend growl under his breath.

The respective players return to their positions, and when the whistle blows Liam charges toward them like a bull at a waving, red flag. Once again, he evades Stiles, however, he has no time to dodge Scott's tackle. When they make contact with each other, Liam flies over the older boy's shoulders, landing flat on his back harshly. The crack of bone rings through the air and everyone freezes.

Ophelia blinks. "Personally, I think that was deserved," she comments bluntly. Kira's head snaps over to her and she stares at the girl for a few moments.

Coach's whistle falls out of his mouth. As both Scott and Stiles take off their helmets and Liam tries to stand up, the man runs over to them in alarm. "Don't move! Don't touch him!"

"I'm okay, Coach," Liam says, breathing heavily. "I'm all right." But the second he attempts to put weight on his leg, he cries out in agony. Scott and Stiles quickly move to support him, Liam's arms going over each of their shoulders. "I-I think it's my leg."

Stiles glances down to the broken bone and shrinks back slightly. "I think we better get him to the nurse," he tells Coach.

The man nods at his statement, letting them quickly limp off the field. Blood boiling that his star player is injured before try-outs are even finished, he whips around to the rest of the team. "You guys, take a lap. Run around- start running around the field! Stupid!" With a scream of anger, Coach picks up a ball on the ground and chucks it over to the bleachers.

Ophelia's eyes widen as she watches it head straight toward Malia's forehead. The werecoyote looks up at the very last second in alarm, but before Ophelia can dart over and grab it, Kira catches it in the net of the lacrosse stick she's holding.

Coach places a hand over his mouth in shock. "Oh! Wow. Nice catch," he exclaims. "Throw it back!"

Kira stands, shifting her grip on the lacrosse stick. However, she accidentally throws it so hard that it hits Coach right in the stomach, causing him to yell in pain and drop to the ground. Kira's face falls in horror. "Oh, my God." She glances to her friends to find Ophelia doubled over and laughing.

"Someone ask her if she's ever played lacrosse!"

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

bestie ♡

Hey, where are you??

shit sorry
i'm at the walcott house

Wait
Isn't that the murder place

yep

Banshee stuff?

yep :/

Stay safe Lyds

will do xx

"Is it Lydia?" Malia asks, glancing over to the girl as she looks up from one of her many textbooks.

Ophelia nods and pockets the device. "Yeah, she's at the... axe murder crime scene." Malia raises a brow. "Yeah, banshee stuff." She sighs and shuffles over to the girl on her bed. She tilts her head as she watches Malia drink out of the blender they had used earlier. "You know, I'm starting to regret teaching you how to use that."

Malia looks up innocently from struggling to get the crumbs of toast from the container into her mouth. "What? Why?"

Ophelia giggles and shakes her head. "Are you sure I need to be here?" she questions, gesturing to the textbooks.

"Yep."

"But I hate math."

"So do I."

"I just don't understand why I need to be here!"

"It's your house."

"That's not what I meant."

"You can help me."

"You know I can't do that." Malia purses her lips together and her eyes flick back down to the book. She mumbles something even Ophelia can't understand. "Sorry?"

Malia huffs a sigh. "You help me concentrate," she says quietly. Ophelia softly smiles. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," she retorts. Malia rolls her eyes but can't help her lips lifting. Ophelia's smile widens. "I've never been more willing to watch someone do homework before." A laugh slips out of the werecoyote's lips. "So, let's see the infamous un-readable notes."

Malia takes out a notebook, something that Lydia had given her a few days ago to help catch up with the rest of their year group. "I don't understand any of it," she says as she hands it over.

Ophelia purses her lips as she flips through the pages. She stops to stare at what is written down. "What the fuck?" she mutters to herself. She flips through the book for another few moments before sitting up. "You're sure Lydia wrote these?" she checks in confusion.

"Yeah. Do you know what it is?"

Scrawled across numerous pages are random symbols, letters, and numbers. Ophelia quickly realises that this is something Lydia must have done in a fugue state, similar to when she stumbles across a dead body. "Even I know this isn't math," she replies slowly, brows furrowed. And how their luck has been this year, she's almost certain that this isn't nothing.

Malia snaps her books closed and turns over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as she heavily sighs. "How do you do it all?"

Ophelia moves to lay beside her. "What do you mean?"

"All of this," she answers. "School, lying to people about, you know..."

Her eyes soften in concern as she turns onto her side. She studies Malia's face and comes to understand that the girl has been struggling with her troubles for a while. "Is this about your dad?" Malia quickly nods. "Honestly, it never gets easier," she replies honestly. When she hears Malia exhale a shaky breath, she moves to take her hand. "But he loves you so much, okay? And because he loves you, I have a very strong feeling that he's going to accept all of you."

Malia turns to face her, tears watering in her eyes. "You think so?" she whispers.

Ophelia smiles softly. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Thanks, Fi," she murmurs.

The Stone lifts her hand up to brush away the single tear that has fallen down Malia's face. "Anytime," she says quietly. Their eyes lock and they stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime to Ophelia, but it's a lifetime that she never wants to end. She feels her heart suddenly beat faster, and for some reason she hears Malia's increase as well.

When her phone rings, she almost curses aloud.

"Sorry," she mutters. "It's Scott." Malia clears her throat and smiles, nodding her head as a gesture for her to answer. "Hey, what's up?" Ophelia's face falls in concern as she immediately realises that something is wrong from his short breaths. She swings her legs off her bed, fully prepared to storm out of her house. "Scott? What happened?"

"Fi. I-I need your help," he says, voice cracking in panic.

Ophelia's heart pounds faster as she begins to assume the worst. "Okay, I'm here, can you tell me what happened?"

"I-" Scott cuts himself off, taking a moment to try and calm his breathing. "Can you meet me at home?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll be there in five, okay?" She hears him take a deep breath. "Scott, I'll be there in a minute. Just hang on, okay?" She hangs up and turns to the werecoyote to apologise.

"It's okay, go," Malia reassures her.

Ophelia gives her a half-hearted smile. "Thanks. You're welcome to stay." She squeezes Malia's hand before speeding out the door and slamming her front door. She doesn't bother driving. It'll be faster this way.

And as Ophelia Stone tears off down the street, she doesn't have a single clue as to what she's about to walk into.

𝘚𝘤𝘰𝘵𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘍𝘪 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘠𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘢𝘭, 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.