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She had her mother to thank for her gracefulness, although thinking about it her father was pretty graceful too. It was probably the long limbs, the height and the calmness, the image of a swan who looked collected externally but who for many years, especially in her youth, was battling anxiety and feelings of self-doubt. The dress might have screamed regality but the thirty-seven year old couldn’t shake the feeling of being a little overdressed in comparison to the general population.
She enjoyed history thoroughly at school, she’d enjoyed education in general. The ability to throw herself into learning and homework and blend into the background relatively unnoticed had been her thing. It was the type of historic event she wouldn’t want to miss for the world even if it meant stepping out of her comfort zone. “Is Auntie Vashti here then?” she asked, her eyes lighting up a little at the thought of seeing the woman again. It was probably a stupid question considering the subject she taught. “It’s not my usual scene but it certainly looked fun on the flyers regardless. That and I thought my skills might be required at some point” she laughed lyrically, glancing over towards the participants hurtling their way down the hill.
She was familiar with the concept of the Caber Toss in its traditional form but it was not something she had ever participated in. Her home county of Cornwall was more into their association with the water and the Falmouth Falcons of course. “Not at all. The closest I’ve ever got to participating in a sport is riding one of Mum’s horses” Oh and she used to fly when she was younger but hadn’t straddled a broomstick in probably a decade.
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