Ffion has tried her best. She spent several hours painstakingly copying pages from one of the books Nazarchtharin left, but when she nearly fell asleep three times over the same page, she knew something had to change. Sitting on the table made for a nice change, but bending over her pages hurt after a while. She is lying on her back on the table, the book cradled in her arms, when Magistra Colle comes in. "Does that help with copying?"