A small, endearing skeleton, with oversized eye sockets and a slight slouch, sits slumped on an old wooden table, looking disheveled and glum. Its bony fingers rest lazily on the surface, while its jaw hangs slightly open in a dejected expression, as if sighing without lungs. The skeleton’s skull is tilted to the side, giving it an almost comically miserable look, with a few cobwebs clinging to its ribs and joints, adding to its unkempt appearance. On the table before the skeleton lie two worn books, both with faded covers. One of them has the title "Loras to Train" scrawled across the front in uneven lettering, as though hastily written. The second book, lying next to it, reads "But No Buzz," its cover similarly tattered and the title barely legible. The scene feels both whimsical and melancholic, as if the little skeleton has been struggling to study or train, only to be met with frustration and disappointment. Behind the skeleton, a dim light casts long shadows over the table, heightening the sense of quiet gloom, while a single, crooked candle flickers beside the books, barely illuminating the scene. Despite the sullen mood, the skeleton's small size and forlorn posture make it oddly cute, as if it’s yearning for a break from whatever lifeless task it's been trying to accomplish.