- Messages
- 86
- OOC First Name
- Claire
- Blood Status
- Unknown
- Relationship Status
- Too Young to Care
- Wand
- Curly 11 1/2 Inch Rigid Alder Wand with Dragon Heartstring Core
- Age
- 13
Synnove sat at the edge of the courtyard, writing a letter. It had recently rained, but the bench she sat on was sheltered by the overhanging roof and had kept dry. Every now and then a student splashed past her and into the castle, but they didn't seem interested in the first year bent over a roll of parchment, and she was not interested in them. She was writing carefully. She had six pieces of parchment - thick, high quality parchment with a floral border - which meant that between now and Christmas she could write home every other week. It was going to be tough, but with lessons starting soon she was sure her mind would be taken off her family and how much she missed them. Until then she endeavoured to cram as many heartfelt words as possible onto the tiny page. She had dedicated a paragraph to each of her relatives, and, not wanting anyone to feel left out, had even included a message to the staff. It sounded a bit forced in her mind, but it was the thought that counted.
When both sides of the paper were thoroughly filled, she signed her initials in the remaining gap (there was no room for her full name) and stood to go inside. Half way to the door a cat materialised and hurtled across her path, getting briefly tangled in her feet. Synnove put her arms out to break her fall. The parchment scattered, half of it - including the page she had written on - landing directly in a deep puddle a metre away. She lay in shock for a second before scrambling up to collect her letter. But it was too late. The words, which had been very small to begin with, had bled together and were completely illegible. The cat watched her from the corner of the fountain and mewed. "Don't meow at me," she said. "This is your fault!"
When both sides of the paper were thoroughly filled, she signed her initials in the remaining gap (there was no room for her full name) and stood to go inside. Half way to the door a cat materialised and hurtled across her path, getting briefly tangled in her feet. Synnove put her arms out to break her fall. The parchment scattered, half of it - including the page she had written on - landing directly in a deep puddle a metre away. She lay in shock for a second before scrambling up to collect her letter. But it was too late. The words, which had been very small to begin with, had bled together and were completely illegible. The cat watched her from the corner of the fountain and mewed. "Don't meow at me," she said. "This is your fault!"