Post by Jason Cruz on Oct 12, 2007 11:57:24 GMT -5
The sun felt great on his face. He felt warm and safe and comfortable, even with hundreds of people watching him. The wind whipped his short hair slightly as he flew back toward the center of the pitch. He'd scored. They were now up by ten. He was sure everyone was watching him admiringly and loved the sensation it gave him. He felt powerful, invincible even. This may just be a game, but he and the other students always took quidditch pretty seriously. So even though it wasn't exactly battling evil, he still felt heroic.
The engine of his broom purred soothingly. He was ready to begin aga . . . wait. Brooms don't have engines . . .
Jason opened his eyes. His white and grey cat lay beside him, purring away in the morning sun flooding into the room. Stretching, he sat up, somewhat annoying the cat. She stood up and meowed at him it that fakely pitiful way she always did when he disturbed her.
"Oh relax Furball. You get to lie here and go back to sleep. I just hope I don't miss breakfast."
He rose and dressed, noting the empty dorm. He sighed, unsurprised that nobody had bothered to wake him. Just more evidence he was going to have to change in order to make friends. Running a hand through his hair to make himself more or less presentable, he hurried down the stairs and through the portrait hole.
The engine of his broom purred soothingly. He was ready to begin aga . . . wait. Brooms don't have engines . . .
Jason opened his eyes. His white and grey cat lay beside him, purring away in the morning sun flooding into the room. Stretching, he sat up, somewhat annoying the cat. She stood up and meowed at him it that fakely pitiful way she always did when he disturbed her.
"Oh relax Furball. You get to lie here and go back to sleep. I just hope I don't miss breakfast."
He rose and dressed, noting the empty dorm. He sighed, unsurprised that nobody had bothered to wake him. Just more evidence he was going to have to change in order to make friends. Running a hand through his hair to make himself more or less presentable, he hurried down the stairs and through the portrait hole.
