Post by Morgan Pendragon on Sept 26, 2008 14:13:10 GMT -5
Morgan scratched absently at an itch on her wrist. Her other hand tightened on her new broom. Her free hand moved away from her wrist to brush stray hairs from her face. Then it moved on to smoth out her clothing: her ancient, ranbow-embroidered bellbottoms and a faded Welsh Dragons tee. Finally, she gripped the broom with two hands, and straddled it.
It all came back to her, natural as breathing.
She pushed off from the ground, grateful to be back in the air. She even managed to close her eyes and relish the feeling of wind on her face and the strong, smoth wood in her hands, if only for a second. After last June, she wasn't sure she'd be able to get back on a broom at all. It's not like it was an accident, exactly. But it was painful.
She'd come down at twilight, just as the sun was setting. The moon was out, along with some small gathering of stars at the Eastern horizon, but the real draw of the scenery was the gold-orange color of the waning sun as it burned behind the trees of the forest. It almost looked as though the trees were on fire. She flew a few laps, warming up, before she began her real work out.
Tomorrow was quidditch trials, and as Captain, she could hardly show fear of flying, could she? Really, she ought to ask Sylph how one handled being prefect and quidditch captain at the same time. It seemed an awful lot of work to her. At least last year, her O.W.L. year, quidditch had been cancelled. It was hard enough to study without quidditch to worry about.
She went through her moves slowly at first, but sped up as she gained confidence. Everything Tristan taught her about brooms and flying ran through the back of her head, but it was so well ingrained she hardly needed it there. She'd been flying before she'd learned to swim. That time she'd nearly drowned when she was six proved that. By that time, she was already a competent flier.
The night air (for it was truly night now, with the sun gone and the stars aglow), caressed her skin. Suddenly she wished for a jacket, but the evening had been so balmy she hadn't thought of that. In a second she'd have to land before she got too cold. She made her way regretfully to the ground. Her new broom was a custom model by Navara. Ash wood, to commemerate her first wand.
She locked the broom away in her quidditch locker. Exiting the locker room, she began to make her way towards the school.
It all came back to her, natural as breathing.
She pushed off from the ground, grateful to be back in the air. She even managed to close her eyes and relish the feeling of wind on her face and the strong, smoth wood in her hands, if only for a second. After last June, she wasn't sure she'd be able to get back on a broom at all. It's not like it was an accident, exactly. But it was painful.
She'd come down at twilight, just as the sun was setting. The moon was out, along with some small gathering of stars at the Eastern horizon, but the real draw of the scenery was the gold-orange color of the waning sun as it burned behind the trees of the forest. It almost looked as though the trees were on fire. She flew a few laps, warming up, before she began her real work out.
Tomorrow was quidditch trials, and as Captain, she could hardly show fear of flying, could she? Really, she ought to ask Sylph how one handled being prefect and quidditch captain at the same time. It seemed an awful lot of work to her. At least last year, her O.W.L. year, quidditch had been cancelled. It was hard enough to study without quidditch to worry about.
She went through her moves slowly at first, but sped up as she gained confidence. Everything Tristan taught her about brooms and flying ran through the back of her head, but it was so well ingrained she hardly needed it there. She'd been flying before she'd learned to swim. That time she'd nearly drowned when she was six proved that. By that time, she was already a competent flier.
The night air (for it was truly night now, with the sun gone and the stars aglow), caressed her skin. Suddenly she wished for a jacket, but the evening had been so balmy she hadn't thought of that. In a second she'd have to land before she got too cold. She made her way regretfully to the ground. Her new broom was a custom model by Navara. Ash wood, to commemerate her first wand.
She locked the broom away in her quidditch locker. Exiting the locker room, she began to make her way towards the school.