Dragon War [not finished]

History: Cristiana

CRISTIANA'S POV

I fidget in my seat. Evelyn wants to tell us something, but I had wanted to race, and it would be too dark if she didn’t hurry.
“Well, the other day, when Ryia rescued that cat, it was really strange. She threw it down to someone watching-“
“That would be me,” Margaret butts in. I roll my eyes and fidget some more. Let’s just get this over with.
“OK, I couldn’t see you. Anyways, you passed it off to someone else, and that person walked over to the creek and dumped the poor kitten in…”
My interest peaks as she stops. I see an old man walk into the room, his grey eyes as wide as the town square.
“Did you say that a man dumped a cat in the river? By the waterfall, perhaps?”
She nods. “It was really cruel. The poor cat-“
The old man interrupts again! “Leo, can I talk to you? Alone?”
As Leo follows the old man into the room, I wonder what he cold be doing. I hear them faintly talking. I try to tune in, but I can’t hear them through the thick wooden door. I sigh. I finally drift back into the real world to hear Fred and Evelyn saying something. I hope it’s not important. I always miss the most important parts of conversations!
"When are they going to finish talking?" Margaret asks. Fred shrugs, Peter sighs, and Evelyn snaps her fingers.
“I just remembered something! There's something else I needed to tell you! Before I saw the man put the cat into the river, I- I found something... It was a trap door, under the water. It- it was locked, and from the look of it, it hasn't been opened in quite a while...” Evelyn exclaims.
The door bangs open and Leo steps out, a strange look on his face.
“I like your necklace,” snorts Margaret. I notice the charm hung around his neck. It’s exquisite!
He doesn’t seem to think so, though, because he stuffs it in his pack, blushing.
Peter stands. “It’s getting late. We all need to get home. Especially me, I have strict curfew- I can’t wait until I’m not just a squire anymore.”
I sigh. Leo and the old man took up too much time. Now we can’t race.
I race myself home, listening to the tweeting of early owls.