Ravens and Rainstorms.
Week Name/Date/Time: 'Books of Mystery'/Sunday, 16 Oct/2:23 pm
Location: West Gardens/Covered Breezeway
Open to: Jory
Currently involving: Liesl and her raven
The black leather of her shoes pattered against the wet stone path through the gardens and toward the castle, her stockings and skirt hem getting duly splashed in the process. Liesl did not wince as sharp claws on feet of fowl clung painfully to her forearm; the sudden downpour had caught both her and the raven, her pet and trusted messenger, by surprise. The Slytherin had ventured down on the grounds with the bird, knowing he could do with a good jaunt about in the open, while she inspected the state of the Hogwarts stables in preparation for her horse’s arrival this week. Both Liesl and the raven, drily dubbed Writing Desk, had missed their other companion, Achilles. It seemed the girl got on much better with animals and inanimate objects than people. No surprise there. So it was with much gratitude that she had received her reply from Dumbledore with permission to board him at school. He had probably wanted to privilege her as sympathy for her parents’ recent murders - and although Liesl abhorred pity, she gladly jumped at the chance to have Achilles nearby. One had to give a little to receive sometimes.
Ducking her head and using her free arm to shield the raven as best she could, Liesl picked up into a sprint as the rain evolved from shower to sheets. The black bird squawked a bit in dismay at all the running - he could have found cover much more quickly if he’d flown on his own, but he chose to stay with his master. “Erbärmlich, Desky,” Liesl apologized, “we’re almost there.” And, indeed, in no time they had reached the covered breezeway that faced out onto the West Gardens. Panting for breath, Liesl extended her arm in a gesture that meant Writing Desk was free to hop off, and so he did, right onto the low, covered stone wall before her.
“Scheiße,” Liesl muttered, frowning down at the damp state of her jumper, skirt, stockings… and her hair as well, clinging in dripping locks down her shoulders. But a drying spell was no trouble, even if it did little for the chill that had set into her skin and seeped through her bones at the run through the storm. Glad she had brought her wand, Liesl performed the spell and tucked it back in her pocket, then reached up to push her thick hair out of her eyes. At least it wasn’t dripping any longer, despite what a nuisance it could be.
“Screeaawww!” came Writing Desk’s impatient plea for attention. Had she forgotten him?
“Oh, you spoiled thing, I sometimes wonder if you’re much more than a raven,” Liesl clucked, shaking her head and drawing her wand again. She aimed a drying spell at his precious feathers and he appeared sated, ruffling some and scooting closer to her along the wall. Liesl scratched dotingly under his beak and put her wand away again, hopefully for the last time. He was such an intelligent little thing, and demanding too, what with insisting she share her drying techniques.
It was an extremely rare display of affection for Liesl, the likes of which she had never bestowed on another human. She staunchly believed she never would, too.
Location: West Gardens/Covered Breezeway
Open to: Jory
Currently involving: Liesl and her raven
The black leather of her shoes pattered against the wet stone path through the gardens and toward the castle, her stockings and skirt hem getting duly splashed in the process. Liesl did not wince as sharp claws on feet of fowl clung painfully to her forearm; the sudden downpour had caught both her and the raven, her pet and trusted messenger, by surprise. The Slytherin had ventured down on the grounds with the bird, knowing he could do with a good jaunt about in the open, while she inspected the state of the Hogwarts stables in preparation for her horse’s arrival this week. Both Liesl and the raven, drily dubbed Writing Desk, had missed their other companion, Achilles. It seemed the girl got on much better with animals and inanimate objects than people. No surprise there. So it was with much gratitude that she had received her reply from Dumbledore with permission to board him at school. He had probably wanted to privilege her as sympathy for her parents’ recent murders - and although Liesl abhorred pity, she gladly jumped at the chance to have Achilles nearby. One had to give a little to receive sometimes.
Ducking her head and using her free arm to shield the raven as best she could, Liesl picked up into a sprint as the rain evolved from shower to sheets. The black bird squawked a bit in dismay at all the running - he could have found cover much more quickly if he’d flown on his own, but he chose to stay with his master. “Erbärmlich, Desky,” Liesl apologized, “we’re almost there.” And, indeed, in no time they had reached the covered breezeway that faced out onto the West Gardens. Panting for breath, Liesl extended her arm in a gesture that meant Writing Desk was free to hop off, and so he did, right onto the low, covered stone wall before her.
“Scheiße,” Liesl muttered, frowning down at the damp state of her jumper, skirt, stockings… and her hair as well, clinging in dripping locks down her shoulders. But a drying spell was no trouble, even if it did little for the chill that had set into her skin and seeped through her bones at the run through the storm. Glad she had brought her wand, Liesl performed the spell and tucked it back in her pocket, then reached up to push her thick hair out of her eyes. At least it wasn’t dripping any longer, despite what a nuisance it could be.
“Screeaawww!” came Writing Desk’s impatient plea for attention. Had she forgotten him?
“Oh, you spoiled thing, I sometimes wonder if you’re much more than a raven,” Liesl clucked, shaking her head and drawing her wand again. She aimed a drying spell at his precious feathers and he appeared sated, ruffling some and scooting closer to her along the wall. Liesl scratched dotingly under his beak and put her wand away again, hopefully for the last time. He was such an intelligent little thing, and demanding too, what with insisting she share her drying techniques.
It was an extremely rare display of affection for Liesl, the likes of which she had never bestowed on another human. She staunchly believed she never would, too.