 Lil' gooz | Sarangel | Junior Dweeb
Holy bananas. Making their very own BOWS? This was even cooler than Norah had imagined, and that was saying something 'cause her mum had always called her imagination 'overactive' which obviously meant she was a professional imaginer. She eyed the wood eagerly as Thereos explained all the stuff they had to do, her eyebrows raised. Could they start now pleasepleasepleaseplease?
Once the explanation was over, she jumped up eagerly from the stone she'd been sitting on and approached the wood with big, bounding steps. Waiting was overrated. She had a BOW to be making. A BOW! She picked up a piece of wood from the top of the pile and held it to her ear. Was she supposed to...hear something? Wood couldn't really speak--everybody knew that--but Thereos said she was somehow going to know which piece was the right one. This one was awfully silent, so she laid it back down again and picked up a second piece. Nothing. Again. She picked up a third and set it down almost immediately. That wasn't special either. Getting to her knees, Norah pushed a few pieces of wood to the side before selecting a piece with a funny little scar on its surface. She liked this one, did that count as special enough? Good enough, anyways. She stood up and returned to where she'd been sitting, picking up some caterpillar silk as she went and setting the wood by her feet as she dug through her bag for her wand. Showtime!
She stood the wood upright with one end pushing against the ground. She almost thought it felt warm as she held it, but it could've been her imagination doing the overactive thing again. Who knew, really. Either way, it felt pretty special. Norah placed a hand on top and pushed softly on the middle with the other. Aaaand pushing. And pushing some more. She was worrying that it might've been the wrong wood all along by the time it swiveled around, but once it did she proceeded to pick up her wand and cast "Diffindo!" to cut a line where her hand would go, and then again a few inches down. Pausing for a moment to admire her handiwork, she spun her wand around in her fingers and tried to remember the next step.
More diffindo-ing. Riiiiight. She lifter her wand and used the spell to shave off parts of the bow, leaving her indicated handle thicker than the rest. Well, mostly thicker than the rest. One part at the bottom came out a little funny shaped, but it didn't matter. SHE thought it was LOVELY and hopefully that'd be the only thing that counted. Everything was much simpler when that was the only thing that counted. Her wand was set down now, and the bow in progress was brought to her lap where she could fumble through the attachment of the caterpillar silk. She tied the knots as tightly as she could (apparently her fingers weren't invented for teeny weeny silk strands), then picked up her wand again. The real question now was what to name it.
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