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Zoe · 02-04-2025, 05:03 AM

It was her first proper British winter, a season she had been dreading since making the impetuous leap across the Atlantic. The cold here was not the same as the crisp, fleeting chill she had known back home. Snow flurried around her in sharp, swirling gusts, some flakes melting instantly on her flushed cheeks, others settling in her dark curls. Every breath she took was visible in the frigid air, each exhale a puff of mist that vanished just as quickly as it formed. She hated it. She hated all of it.

For this reason, Tamara was not taking a leisurely stroll through the alley. She moved with purpose, her pace quick, her strides long, boots crunching over the cobblestones with determined force. Though she held her head high, trying her hardest to maintain an air of nonchalance, her body betrayed her—her shoulders were hunched, her hands were balled into fists inside her coat, and her teeth chattered despite her best efforts to clench her jaw. She should have Apparated. She knew she should have Apparated. But she had been stubborn, thinking she could handle the cold. Now every nerve in her body was screaming at her for that foolish decision.

"¡Aye! ¡Vamos!" she snapped, her patience fraying as she came up behind an old man who was taking his sweet, agonising time shuffling through the narrow alleyway. His presence was an affront to her very existence at this moment. She had places to be, and freezing to death in this wretched alley was not on her itinerary.

02-04-2025, 05:03 AM	#48 (permalink)
Zoe Forum Manager Honeydukes Mod Occamy Join Date: Nov 2006 Location: Oz Posts: 63,356 Hogwarts RPG Name: Beauden Wild Gryffindor Seventh Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Gillyweed Beery Slytherin Fifth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Ousmane Diomandé Hufflepuff Fourth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Rajan Patil Ravenclaw First Year Ministry Department Head: Franklin Paton Law Enforcement Ministry Department Head: Almer Toots Transportation x8 x8	Bathes in Maple Syrup \| Dancing Lobster \| Mrs. Charlie Weasley \| Seneca's Beard \| That's So Fetch It was her first proper British winter, a season she had been dreading since making the impetuous leap across the Atlantic. The cold here was not the same as the crisp, fleeting chill she had known back home. Snow flurried around her in sharp, swirling gusts, some flakes melting instantly on her flushed cheeks, others settling in her dark curls. Every breath she took was visible in the frigid air, each exhale a puff of mist that vanished just as quickly as it formed. She hated it. She hated all of it. For this reason, Tamara was not taking a leisurely stroll through the alley. She moved with purpose, her pace quick, her strides long, boots crunching over the cobblestones with determined force. Though she held her head high, trying her hardest to maintain an air of nonchalance, her body betrayed her—her shoulders were hunched, her hands were balled into fists inside her coat, and her teeth chattered despite her best efforts to clench her jaw. She should have Apparated. She knew she should have Apparated. But she had been stubborn, thinking she could handle the cold. Now every nerve in her body was screaming at her for that foolish decision. "¡Aye! ¡Vamos!" she snapped, her patience fraying as she came up behind an old man who was taking his sweet, agonising time shuffling through the narrow alleyway. His presence was an affront to her very existence at this moment. She had places to be, and freezing to death in this wretched alley was not on her itinerary. __________________