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Date Posted: 18:36:23 03/26/02 Tue
Author: Raine Whetherford
Subject: Takeoffs and landings
In reply to: Ron Weasley 's message, "-Fear Hinders More Than Death-" on 15:32:01 03/26/02 Tue

A petite adolescent anxiously shifted amongst a gaggle of the familiars of her house, most of their number reserved to the Kilborg district in the place of congregation. Despite being among confidants of perdurable years, the golden tressed female is ill at ease. Perhaps it is the advent of the novel students from across the unpredictable Atlantic that has mildly intimidated her to the point of apprehension perturbing her easily shaken nerves. She askancely flicks her turquoise optics to the ingressing crowd of deflated spirits, their dolor causing compassion for their plight to spark within her benign being. She never had to endure such a paralyzingly painful situation, although sometimes she ponders if she wishes she would have, as she believes that anguish will ripen to wisdom when time heals the open wounds. Nonetheless, she seats herself at the table before her, crossing her arms upon its wooden surface and angling her head to rest in the crook of her right elbow. From this sideways aspect, she piteously contemplates each face as they emerge into her line of vision. Riveted to the headmaster's announcements of which houses the grief afflicted strangers will be assigned to, the lithe and slender figure's forest hued eyes ping pong with a cleverly hidden, thrilled charge. Her image, soft to the eye, is slightly obscured by a few who are standing upright in front of her, and she makes an effort to be able to imbibe the newcomers with her teal oculus. This calls for for an ascendment of her caramel colored apex to stretch in upraisal so she can study the new additions to their school. Imaginably, by chance, she can meet some mere aquaintances and maybe more. Healthily full and pink toned lambrums adorn a barely discernable simper. Maybe...

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