<div class="floatleft">(https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQboLyRhv87q2dV7lyxqjrb-QHbjw7vXPA9NxY2GnblMpQE3nv3rQ)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Willum Wildfang<br/><strong>Team:</strong>Clay Dewclaw<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Cafeteria<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Team Dewclaw<br/><br/>Truthfully, Willum had little doubt in his mind about being accepted into the Academy.  It would be a cliche to say that he was born to be a hunter, but in hindsight, his fathers had certainly raised him to become one.  Though he had never really questioned anything they told him to do, trusting that they knew what they were doing, it all made sense now.  The time he spent in some little school in Feur, learning all the things normal kids did.  The trips to other cities, being taught how to survive in the wild on the fly, and occasionally learning the hard way about how to pack for the cold and what plants to not touch or eat.  And of course, how to fight: against anyone or anything.  Those had been some of the most important lessons he had ever learned, and Willum had found them to be the most interesting.<br/><br/>So when his name was called, he wasn't particularly surprised, but there was a happy smile over the fact that his confidence had been well founded.  Honestly, the written portion of the exams hadn't been too terribly hard.  He was certain he didn't get top marks, but he knew enough that after each test he had walked away pleased with himself.  It was the practicals that made things come alive for him, that had drawn out the best out of him.  Still probably not top marks for the survival portion, but he knew he had generally handled himself well.  His fathers had put him through worse, and it would have shamed them if he hadn't progressed smoothly through.<br/><br/>And then came the combat portion of the practicals.  The bruise he had was healing nicely, and it would probably be gone the next day.  The Beowulf had been easy to deal with, and with permission to use lethal force, quick too.  Professor Armina was a different story though, his father Sascha had warned him about her, but he felt he had acquitted himself well.  For one, he was used to fighting adults who were significantly more seasoned and skilled than he was.  Opting not to use his semblance, he had gone for a more defensive strategy, knowing that he was going to lose anyways.  Using only attacks that wouldn't fully commit him and he could easily switch to a defense again, defending then immediately launching a small counterattack of his own.  He hadn't been able to use his full repertoire of techniques, and he knew it wouldn't have made a lick of difference in the outcome anyways.  Armina was too experienced, and she had overwhelmed his defence eventually.  But at least he had managed to roll with the final blows and softened them a little.<br/><br/>Heading up to the stage, there was a sense of relief at knowing he wouldn't be responsible for leading the team.  Willum wanted to focus on his studies and his martial arts, and he had little interest in commanding others.  Some of his fathers would be a little disappointed, but he knew the oldest would understand his feelings.  He gave a respectful bow to the headmaster and a quick thumbs up to the rest of his teammates before returning to his seat.  Once the ceremony was over and they were heading off to class, he gave the rest of his team a wave as he approached.<br/>“Yo, so our new lives together begins now huh?  Would have liked to have another round with Professor Armina, but I guess after yesterday, maybe catching a little break will be nice.”