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Angie · 11-15-2008, 01:57 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by SilverTiger

Elizabeth made her way into the stands for the Hufflepuff/Slytherin game, practically unrecognizable with a knit cap pulled over her blonde hair, her Ravenclaw scarf twisted around her neck and covering her mouth and nose, and several layers underneath her winter robes. Remembering how cold she had gotten after their game, she wasn't keen to experience that again.

As she climbed up the stands, she saw Willow already there, tapping her foot impatiently. Approaching her fellow beater, she pulled her scarf down a bit to speak. "Checking out our competition?," she asked with a smile.

Tap, tap, tap.

Will it ever start? Obviously. Naturally, of course, since Willow was Willow, she was feeling rather impatient. Waiting and anything that could potentially be remotely close to that were areas in which the fourth year was not particularly an expert. She was a really impatient person—needless to say, when Willow Kovac wanted something she wanted right at the instant she wished for it.

Of course that rarely happened, for according to her, the Gods and the Karma that surrounded the world were determined to make fun of her by not providing the girl the things that she wanted. Willow, naturally, found a way to blame her overly proper and sometimes too cold father for this.

Still tapping her foot against the floor, the fourth year looked up to see the person that had addressed to her. “Certainly,” answered the rather short brunette with a polite nod, to the Ravenclaw prefect and fellow beater. “I take that you are, too?” She inquired, before shivering.

Stupid Winter. It was too cold.

11-15-2008, 01:57 AM	#133 (permalink)
Angie DoM Veela Join Date: Sep 2007 Location: Themyscira Posts: 37,610 Hogwarts RPG Name: Nerissa M. Tate Sixth Year x8	Wowza! Quote: Originally Posted by SilverTiger Elizabeth made her way into the stands for the Hufflepuff/Slytherin game, practically unrecognizable with a knit cap pulled over her blonde hair, her Ravenclaw scarf twisted around her neck and covering her mouth and nose, and several layers underneath her winter robes. Remembering how cold she had gotten after their game, she wasn't keen to experience that again. As she climbed up the stands, she saw Willow already there, tapping her foot impatiently. Approaching her fellow beater, she pulled her scarf down a bit to speak. "Checking out our competition?," she asked with a smile. Tap, tap, tap. Will it ever start? Obviously. Naturally, of course, since Willow was Willow, she was feeling rather impatient. Waiting and anything that could potentially be remotely close to that were areas in which the fourth year was not particularly an expert. She was a really impatient person—needless to say, when Willow Kovac wanted something she wanted right at the instant she wished for it. Of course that rarely happened, for according to her, the Gods and the Karma that surrounded the world were determined to make fun of her by not providing the girl the things that she wanted. Willow, naturally, found a way to blame her overly proper and sometimes too cold father for this. Still tapping her foot against the floor, the fourth year looked up to see the person that had addressed to her. “Certainly,” answered the rather short brunette with a polite nod, to the Ravenclaw prefect and fellow beater. “I take that you are, too?” She inquired, before shivering. Stupid Winter. It was too cold. __________________