- Messages
- 171
Isobel sauntered into the great hall, her stride slowly and counted for till she reach the Slytherin table. Before she had arrived she had done something so horrible, it frighten her to near chest pain but not enough to want to confess the crime. The second she sat down on the table the deed was forgotten, but the pain still linger behind. She rubbed her chest in slow circulos motion, her painted nails smelled of something notorious. It made her want to vomit, but Isobel held her composer well enough that no one suspect anything was up with the first year Slytherin girl. She just grew tired sitting so eventually she laid her head down, resting her eyes a bit. Not aware of everyone around her.