[The Magical Creatures class is conducted in a small clearing about a hundred yards into the forest. Ms. Frizzle is standing in the center, wearing robes covered in a variety of birds and butterflies.]
Good morning campers! Say hello to my little friend.
[The bird perched on her finger cocks its head and stares silently at the group.]This is a
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"That's pretty cool. ... I mean, I guess," he half-muttered, faltering a bit. "How long is that "impressive lifespan," then?"
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At the end of Miss Frizzle's speech, though, Toshiro's jaw dropped. "..What it'll have to say" when what? Was she going to kill it!?
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Lifting up the whistle he'd kept from Quidditch practice (whistles could come in handy), he blew a short series of team signals.
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