(no subject)
Week Name/Date/Time: Lost and Found/ Sunday, November 13th, 2005/1:07pm
Location: Quidditch Pitch
Open To: Jory, the Stud Muffin
Currently Involving: Saffron and Jory
True, her motives for flying today were not completely innocent, but she did need the practice and who better to fly around with than Jory. He was, after all, the only person who had restored at least a little faith in her broom, and it just so happened that she fancied him a bit. Also, it was simply a coincidence that the other bird interested in Jory did not fly or play quidditch. After all, Saffron could not be blamed for other girls misfortunes, now could she? It wasn't as if ages ago she bewitched the poor lass so she'd never be able to fly. No, no, they weren't rivals then.
Swinging her leg over her broom, Saffron glided slowly around the pitch, taking a deep breath of the freezing air that prickled her nasal passages. Woo. It was getting chilly wasn't it? She had a hat on her head, the gloves Jory had given her on, and robes meant for flying about in the winter. Though, the only unfortunate thing about her whole get up, certainly, was that her ankles dangled carelessly around, now and again becoming uncovered. It seemed her pants were getting shorter and shorter - because she simply did not want to accept she was growing taller and taller - though luckily that had been a little long to begin with.
Eying the entrance carefully, she wondered where Jory was. "What could he be up to?" she asked herself suspiciously, having an answer already concocted in her head, though she chose to ignore it. Speaking out loud to herself still, she answered herself, "He's probably just brushing his hair." At this, Saffron found herself upside down on her broom laughing madly. Letting go, she flopped to the ground which was only inches away, the broom toppling on to of her. She didn't laugh at her own jokes - unless she didn't mean to make them.
Location: Quidditch Pitch
Open To: Jory, the Stud Muffin
Currently Involving: Saffron and Jory
True, her motives for flying today were not completely innocent, but she did need the practice and who better to fly around with than Jory. He was, after all, the only person who had restored at least a little faith in her broom, and it just so happened that she fancied him a bit. Also, it was simply a coincidence that the other bird interested in Jory did not fly or play quidditch. After all, Saffron could not be blamed for other girls misfortunes, now could she? It wasn't as if ages ago she bewitched the poor lass so she'd never be able to fly. No, no, they weren't rivals then.
Swinging her leg over her broom, Saffron glided slowly around the pitch, taking a deep breath of the freezing air that prickled her nasal passages. Woo. It was getting chilly wasn't it? She had a hat on her head, the gloves Jory had given her on, and robes meant for flying about in the winter. Though, the only unfortunate thing about her whole get up, certainly, was that her ankles dangled carelessly around, now and again becoming uncovered. It seemed her pants were getting shorter and shorter - because she simply did not want to accept she was growing taller and taller - though luckily that had been a little long to begin with.
Eying the entrance carefully, she wondered where Jory was. "What could he be up to?" she asked herself suspiciously, having an answer already concocted in her head, though she chose to ignore it. Speaking out loud to herself still, she answered herself, "He's probably just brushing his hair." At this, Saffron found herself upside down on her broom laughing madly. Letting go, she flopped to the ground which was only inches away, the broom toppling on to of her. She didn't laugh at her own jokes - unless she didn't mean to make them.