In thoughtfulness, she painted the draft of the report with yellow-coloured chopsticks wrapped in a ring, and then in the rush of hooliganism in one of such circles, she attributed "Aya, Aaran Feanaro!" The revisor came, and I didn’t have time to shut up, scratched my reports and left somewhere. I sit down, I think it all, a puppy cat came. An, no - they return my papers, and there next to my appeal is attributed by someone else's handwriting: "Aya!" I sit and think a lot...