Post by Anise Paravel on May 30, 2006 20:12:48 GMT -5
Anise sighed, irritated with her parents' rather indifferent farewell and the fact they hadn't been getting along lately. Her only assumption for the matter was that the mother of the girl as well as the father had been far too busy with their little love spats to pay any attention to their child. For what seemed to be happening often lately, the situation semed to be pointed to eventual separation of the two. Anise did not want to think about what would happen then - to her, to be more precise.
As she sat her trunk, old and leather-bound, on the floor of the currently vacant compartment, her braids shifted, stray strands of hair bothering her eyes. Happening several times before she pulled the two pigtails out of their small rubber bands, it only made Miss Paravel even more irritated, and her usually dormant temper was beginning to flare ever so slightly, evident in her creased brow and slitted eyes.
Almost throwing herself back onto the velvet-clad seat, her dark blue cardigan stiffling her at the collar, Anise sighed, curling up so that her knees were parallel with the Ravenclaw prefect badge she wore. She stayed in this position for approximately five minutes, before her restlessness had made her sit up straighter, wish the windowsill was slightly wider so she could have leaned against it and picked up one of her new textbooks for the schoolyear, beginning to flick idly through the pages as one hand, out of habit, reached up to a curly lock of blonde and began to twirl it around its middle joint. Soon, as Anise was often very absorbed by any form of literature, and had read the New Oxford Book of English Verse six times over already and had lost interest in the book of poetry, she was drawn into the pages of the maroon-clad text by the black-inked words that so beckoned her. It was, amusingly, surprising that the girl could read the book so fervently - as if it were not a schoolbook, but a work of fantasy and adventure.
As she sat her trunk, old and leather-bound, on the floor of the currently vacant compartment, her braids shifted, stray strands of hair bothering her eyes. Happening several times before she pulled the two pigtails out of their small rubber bands, it only made Miss Paravel even more irritated, and her usually dormant temper was beginning to flare ever so slightly, evident in her creased brow and slitted eyes.
Almost throwing herself back onto the velvet-clad seat, her dark blue cardigan stiffling her at the collar, Anise sighed, curling up so that her knees were parallel with the Ravenclaw prefect badge she wore. She stayed in this position for approximately five minutes, before her restlessness had made her sit up straighter, wish the windowsill was slightly wider so she could have leaned against it and picked up one of her new textbooks for the schoolyear, beginning to flick idly through the pages as one hand, out of habit, reached up to a curly lock of blonde and began to twirl it around its middle joint. Soon, as Anise was often very absorbed by any form of literature, and had read the New Oxford Book of English Verse six times over already and had lost interest in the book of poetry, she was drawn into the pages of the maroon-clad text by the black-inked words that so beckoned her. It was, amusingly, surprising that the girl could read the book so fervently - as if it were not a schoolbook, but a work of fantasy and adventure.
