(no subject)
When Sophie enters the bar today, she has to expend some energy making sure a mournful-looking red setter stays on the other side of the door, before making her way to a table where she sits peacefully, working on her blue-and-silver sewing project.
Although it might be noticed she's stabbing the needle into the cloth with fairly excessive force - almost as if she's picturing a certain wizard's head in place of the fabric.
There's also some furious muttering - "'I'll never be able to love anyone properly!' What rot! As if he wasn't having the time of his life flitting about breaking young girls' hearts!" - that can be traced to the table as well.
So possibly 'peaceful' isn't the right word.
Between the sewing and the muttering and the general air of muted rage, she hasn't even noticed the puppets.
Although it might be noticed she's stabbing the needle into the cloth with fairly excessive force - almost as if she's picturing a certain wizard's head in place of the fabric.
There's also some furious muttering - "'I'll never be able to love anyone properly!' What rot! As if he wasn't having the time of his life flitting about breaking young girls' hearts!" - that can be traced to the table as well.
So possibly 'peaceful' isn't the right word.
Between the sewing and the muttering and the general air of muted rage, she hasn't even noticed the puppets.