OoC: Sorry for such a long wait for a reply. Note to self: KEEP UP WITH OWN RP BETTER! Haha.

Why couldn’t Mozzie and her friends understand the beautiful simplicity of this? Of silence and all the wonders it held. In the far off distance was the song of late-summer insects, singing for whatever their miniscule hearts desired. Through the trees, the wind whistled, a song so soft that if either of them whispered, they might not hear it. Even the grass had a sound of its own, if you listened closely enough. Naturally, of course, all of the sounds worked to the tune of the backdrop of waves lapping over each other in the lake. The sloshing noise had a wonderful lament, of time passed and memories forgotten and scenes untold but of the water itself. Oh, if nature could talk, the stories it could tell, of years and years, generations, memories both seen and forgotten and tales so private they were locked away in minds.

For Ollie, it was easy to become lost in this world of nature’s songs, those that so few people paid heed to. He had to make up for the lack of listeners, he felt. Because of loud, ignorant people, like Mozzie and Boo and Inez and Georgie and even daft Grace, for Taylor and Hugo and everyone who listened only to the voices of themselves and their friends, Ollie had to listen with such intensity, so that nature would never be discouraged and give up.

After all, what kind of world would be one in which silence was existent? What kind of world would be one in which the lack of noise was truly uncomfortable for quiet, shy Ollie?

No, no, he much preferred silence to the superficial bustle of Mozzie and her friends.

So deep in concentration was Ollie, that when Roísin asked him what he was thinking, he truly lost everything he had just thought. All the thoughts and contemplations of silence and the songs wiped from his mind, for being put on the spot like this terribly lost him.

What had he been thinking?

Ironically, Ollie was now in a state of awkward silence – the kind which existed so little in his world. For a few minutes, he searched his mind, trying to find the thoughts he’d just lost. Finally, he lay back into the grass, a small but crooked smile finding its way to his mouth.

“Funny,” he mused softly. “That I was so deep in thought I nearly missed your question and yet, upon being asked, I seem unable to recall whatever musing had me under such a captivating spell.” A light chuckle followed and he folded one arm over his stomach and allowed the other to curl beneath his head as he watched twilight displace the day. “Queer, isn’t it? How that works? If you listen, though, in silence, you can hear nature talking. One day, maybe, I’ll understand what it’s saying; I’ll learn the secrets that the wind whispers and the stories that the water tells and I’ll understand the song that the bugs sing.”

Amusing, wasn’t it, that the thoughts Ollie had lost returned to him as soon as he’d given up on trying to think of them.

Did he dare ask her, though? In such a light, buoyant mood, Ollie dared. “What’s going on within your head, Miss Roísin?”

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One careful brow arched over Mozzie’s eyes as she surveyed Josefina. Had the girl honestly requested an… did she say “expedition”? with Nolan? Blinking, she tipped her head, before a curious smile crossed her face. “Nollie cakes might be busy with us but…” Slowly, Mozzie’s grin puckered into a smirk. “Perhaps we’ll spare him some time for Jose the horse?”

Short attention span turning back to Inez, Mozzie shrugged within her oversized hoodie (had it one time been Nollie’s? She could no longer remember). “Not sure when the rain will come,” she emphasized. “Though I’ll wager no longer than an hour. Half an hour minimum.” Suddenly, she was itching to play in the rain again. Perhaps Nolan and Jose would join her! Maybe she could ask Boo… would Tristan come? maybe even Quentin?

When Grace had appeared, though, Mozzie had no idea and let out a shocked cry as the quiet girl spoke up.

“Holy surgar sticks,” she swore, hand over her rapidly pounding heart. “Where in the world did you come from?!”

A dark chuckle was emitted from a particularly silent Gryffindor, who’s lips formed a smirk as his gaze fell upon Mozzie. “Well, see? When a man and a woman love each other… though they don’t necessarily have to be in love…” His smirk grew into a full fledge grin, for the briefest of seconds, as he watched Mozzie’s brows arch into her messy fringe and her lips part in a nearly perfect “o”. Whether she was shocked that he’d said that, or she was shocked that he’d said that, he wasn’t for certain, but the humor of the situation was enough to allow a husky laugh out.

“She’s been here for a little bit,” he explained, glancing over at Grace. Had he really been the only one to notice her come in? How perceptive were the others…?

“Chocoballs,” Mozzie muttered, shaking her head. “Not my fault she slips in like a flipping ghost.” Shaking her head a few more times, she turned back to Georgie, shrugging and waving at the same time. “Took you long enough to make it out here,” she told the girl, before catching that twinkling little wave to Hugo. For a brief moment, Mozzie’s eyes narrowed in a glower and her lips took on the shape of a puckered pout, but quickly, she wiped it away. Fortunately for Hugo, she hadn’t caught his wave back or her eyes would surely have shot daggers at him.

“Boo’s off to find someone to cut her hair,” Tristan explained as he stretched, back muscles flexing as he raised his arms above his head and let his long legs extend out before him again. For people who didn’t look where they were walking, Stormy was a risk factor. Mozzie had taken many spills because of his legs, before. “She’s in a pessimistic mood, so you guys will want to watch out.”

As many of them had learned, Boo became very mean and short (hehe, no pun intended) when in a bad mood. In such a mood, she made even the Black Widow look nice.

Speaking of who, out of the corner of his eye, Tristan spotted Zazu hanging back. She seemed to appear anxious and for that moment, he could not fathom why. Heh. A small smirk crossed his lips, which easily could have been directed towards his friends.

A moment later, his eyes widened and he pulled back, in a rare moment lacking his cool and collected exterior, nearly falling backwards into the fountain as Taylor, who too had been hovering, opened an umbrella, nearly hitting the tall Gryffindor backward.

”MERLIN’S CHOCOLATE FROGS!” yelped Mozzie, spooked yet again by another subtle and overlooked entrance. Who actually carried umbrellas around like that, anyway? A better question begging answer was who actually opened them without warning?

“Try not to kill us, ‘kay, Taylor?” she muttered, heart rapidly racing against her ribs again.