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"Weird," she murmurs, and she asserts her will over the vantage point and maneuvers it through a wall so she has enough unbrightness to see by while she maneuvers to the objects she's supposed to scry so she can identify them to the professor and confirm she did the assignment.

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The empty spaces inside of walls are very well unlit, by and large. Much easier to see in there than out in the well-lit (and therefore undark) hallways.

(Since she is not scrying her own room anymore, she will not see Shadow smiling.)
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Since she planned this, she has an idea of how to maneuver so she can get at the sealed room in the thaumatology building she's supposed to investigate the contents of.

She's not sure how she's supposed to handle the inventory of the fruit bowl with all the colors weird - she can't tell if that's a lemon or a lime, or what kind of apple that is - but she identifies everything she can, makes her best guesses based on the things she can distinguish about what the transformed colors represent in standard vision, memorizes it while muttering to herself because she can't write neatly with her eyes closed, and continues making observations about the nature of dark scrying until she thinks she has enough for a good paper.

Then she opens her eyes, pulls open one of the shutters and squints and writes down a quick skeletal set of notes, and says, "That's it. If you haven't thought of anything you want from me I can take you back to the barracks now."
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"I haven't thought of anything," he says. Under the concealing shadows of his halo, his face looks somewhere between wistful and worried.

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"Okay. Well," she looks at the clock, "I will owe you about forty-five minutes if you think of anything later." She stands up. "Or if you want to give it to one of the other elementals, that works too, although I've never had it happen before unless you count what Earth fifty-four likes to do with his accumulated time." She heads for the door to her room.

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"There isn't anyone here I know that well," he says, following a little ways behind her.

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"I understand. You'll probably settle in after a while," she sighs. "And make some friends."

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"Just based on how it usually seems to go. Maybe you're even more introverted than I am." She shrugs, and heads down the stairs.

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Shadow follows quietly, enveloped in his shadowy halo.

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It is again his prerogative to set the conversation/not-conversation option for the duration of the six minute walk.

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Six minutes of silence it is, then.

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Maurabel again clears the amulet (though this is unnecessary, she does it as a reflex) and hands it back to the minder behind the desk. She looks at the clock again, writes down the time, and says, "Forty-two minutes, but I round up to the nearest fifteen, so forty-five. Thank you, Shadow."

"You're weird," the amulet-minder tells Maurabel, putting Shadow's amulet back on the rack.

"I have been informed." Maurabel waves at Shadow and turns to go.
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"Goodbye," Shadow says softly.

He goes back into the room with all the other elementals.
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The next time Maurabel visits the elemental barracks is four days later. She is looking for Earths, but among the Earths she has a favorite; she'll pretty much just check in with him and collect his amulet without being more than loosely available for the others to make requests of, if he's there.

She waves at Shadow on the way in.
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Shadow doesn't wave back, but he smiles tentatively.

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That's fine.

Maurabel aggressively destroys social expectations of elementals that appear in her brain. It's so far beyond appropriate to judge anything they do on that scale, considering. She might have different assessments of a wild one.

She looks for her favorite Earth. Is that him in the back?
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It is! He's wearing his halo how he usually does, as a symmetrical pattern of broad-leafed vines wrapped snugly around him, and talking to the Lightning who is inexplicably his best friend. When she looks their way, Earth glances at her and offers his usual friendly smile, and Lightning's halo sparks aggressively.

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Maurabel approaches closer once she has the smile; otherwise she might have waited. "Morning," she says, glancing at Lightning to acknowledge him but primarily addressing Earth.

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"Good morning," Earth says pleasantly. Lightning sighs. Earth pats him on the shoulder; sparks dance harmlessly over his fingers.

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"I was hoping to make a dent in this semester's volunteer hours and still don't have a more interesting idea than going to the hospital. You up for it?"

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"Of course," says Earth, smiling. He gives Lightning a hug, effectively forestalling an incipient pout.

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"Five hours, tops," Maurabel tells the both of them. "Unless there's a quake or something, then they might want to keep us longer and I'd have a good excuse for the wards teacher, but it's not likely."

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"All right," Earth says agreeably. Lightning turns to hug him back, and for a moment they both disappear in the eye-smarting white-violet glow of Lightning's wings; then Earth gets up to follow Maurabel out.

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Maurabel squints when Lightning wraps up his friend in his wings like that, then heads out. She waves at the ones she knows especially well who happen to be around (a Shine, an Ice) and again to Shadow on the way to the amulets, where she reminds the minder of which Earth this is (fifty-four) and receives his amulet. On to the hospital.

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