"Hurry up, you lot! We haven't got all day!"
Before the youths could process the headmaster's abrupt disappearance, the sprites flitted impatiently above them. High-pitched squeals rang through the air as an orange sprite zipped under the legs of several unsuspecting students.
"Geh!"
Michael's eyes darted to Melody, who moved with startling speed. In a single, fluid motion, she snatched the orange sprite from the air and brought it up to eye level with deadly precision. Michael was about to ask what she was doing when a shiver crawled up his spine.
"Were you trying to look up my dress?" Her voice was cold—each word carrying the bite of an arctic wind.
"N-N-No! I'd never!" The orange sprite's face contorted in horror, clearly not expecting to be caught by a mere student.
