Official Search Tent Headquarters
Date: Sunday, 12 November
Time: Set up by 7:00 a.m., will remain at the Wood's residence until Winifred is found.
Place: Set up just outside the Wood's cottage
Characters Involved: Anyone and Everyone who wishes to participate
The tent looked like a war-room, stereotypical controlled chaos. A large table sat in the centre of it, behind which stood a heavy, free-standing bulletin board with an enormous map of the area. Magical push-pins were gradually being added to the map as areas were searched and clues were found. (Or rather, NOT found!)
Carson, Head of the Aurors and Chief Investigator, sits wearily at the desk, sorting through reports as they come in on one hand, and sorting through assignments to give to people to go out again on the other.
The tent is huge, and a long table lines one side of it, filled with a hodge-podge of food-stuffs which are often brought in by well-meaning neighbors and friends at times like this, people who feel the need to do something, to express their concern and show their support in some tangible way. A never-ending stack of paper plates and plastic cutlery sits in the centre of this table, as well as a large coffee pot and a smaller tea pot, charmed to be refilled when empty.
Chaos reigned, yet the hum of conversation was low and purposeful, people entering and exiting the tent with brisk efficiency. Lay-people were sent in larger groups to search on foot, able to cover areas more completely, which the Aurors had already swept for clues.
Carson had very little hope the child would be found alive. HE had seen the werewolf tracks. One of his Aurors insisted it was just the neighborhood Newfoundland's tracks, and admittedly the dog was enormous. Another bloke in town bred Wolfhounds - also huge dogs capable of leaving werewolf-sized tracks. Carson didn't think it was a dog - the tracks were too close to the child's footprints.
The only hopeful sign, thus far, was that no trace of blood had been found, throughout all the magical searching.
Time: Set up by 7:00 a.m., will remain at the Wood's residence until Winifred is found.
Place: Set up just outside the Wood's cottage
Characters Involved: Anyone and Everyone who wishes to participate
The tent looked like a war-room, stereotypical controlled chaos. A large table sat in the centre of it, behind which stood a heavy, free-standing bulletin board with an enormous map of the area. Magical push-pins were gradually being added to the map as areas were searched and clues were found. (Or rather, NOT found!)
Carson, Head of the Aurors and Chief Investigator, sits wearily at the desk, sorting through reports as they come in on one hand, and sorting through assignments to give to people to go out again on the other.
The tent is huge, and a long table lines one side of it, filled with a hodge-podge of food-stuffs which are often brought in by well-meaning neighbors and friends at times like this, people who feel the need to do something, to express their concern and show their support in some tangible way. A never-ending stack of paper plates and plastic cutlery sits in the centre of this table, as well as a large coffee pot and a smaller tea pot, charmed to be refilled when empty.
Chaos reigned, yet the hum of conversation was low and purposeful, people entering and exiting the tent with brisk efficiency. Lay-people were sent in larger groups to search on foot, able to cover areas more completely, which the Aurors had already swept for clues.
Carson had very little hope the child would be found alive. HE had seen the werewolf tracks. One of his Aurors insisted it was just the neighborhood Newfoundland's tracks, and admittedly the dog was enormous. Another bloke in town bred Wolfhounds - also huge dogs capable of leaving werewolf-sized tracks. Carson didn't think it was a dog - the tracks were too close to the child's footprints.
The only hopeful sign, thus far, was that no trace of blood had been found, throughout all the magical searching.