 | Ravenpuff | Part Ninja | Boat Rocker | Exhausted Pigeon |
Quote:
Originally Posted by Nordic Witch  The wind had picked up and snow had started to fall the further they had gotten down the mountain so Jake didn't hear Logan's called out thanks to him even if he had been listening. The wind blew away the sound and the snowflakes that stung his face weren't very nice and after a bit irritating.
Ignoring the stinging sensation in his face Jake skiied on alongside West. His new acquaintance seemed like a guy of his style and liking. That booming laugh even though most of it was lost to the wind was enough to make Jake beam broadly at the sticks of terror line most of all. "I learned to ski when I went to Durmstrang. Durmstrang even had its own ski team and competition. It some years ago now that I went there but it seems the memory and skills I had back then are still fresh in ski memory. I take it you went to Hogwarts?" Nicely put there Jake.
Working his sticks of terror he looked down the mountain noting that he wasn't in the lead but he wasn't in last place either. If he didn't win it probably would sting for a second or two and then he'd forget all about it. He could be good loser if it wasn't quidditch. He skiied onwards and then all of a sudden he had crossed the finish line. If Jake was first, last or somewhere in the middle he didn't know and really didn't care much it had just been so fun to ski again. Though his speed wasn't increasing, it wasn't decreasing either. He was holding steady in last? place. Jake was pulling a head a bit more and he couldn't hear any skiers coming from behind. He really was just thankful he was still upright. He gave another good push with his poles, wondering if he should be using them at all, and continued down the mountain.
Drumstrang. So Jake was a fellow Drumstrang student. Not that he would have known him. It was possible they had passed in the halls at some point. Jake looked to be somewhat close to West's age. "I technically graduated from Drumstrang. But, I spent most of my school years at St. Mungo's in London. What year did you graduate?" The accident. He really couldn't go into detail while trying not to end up back at his old hangout racing down the mountain. Those were dark days. Days he wasn't sure if he would walk again. He even still limps when it rains.
Eyeing a bend in the slopes before him, he leaned to the left to keep centered on his path. He could just start to see the top of the lodge and little dots moving about below. Hot chocolate and a warm fire were in his near future.
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