Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2015 19:33:20 GMT
NOAH ADRIAN WEASLEY
There was something deeply comforting about the Owlery; about being hidden among the flutter and squawks of birds as they fought for space. His scent was hidden by the musty smell of the bedding on the floor, his footsteps hidden by the screeches. Yes, the Owlery was somewhere that Matty could escape to.
Like he was now. With his charcoal robe buttoned up to his throat and his curling locked tamed into submission like it had been the night of the battle. A battle that was near three entire nights ago. The tears over those who were lost or taken weren't yet done being shed. But that wasn't why the Irish pureblood was stalking up to the Owlery like a muggeborn with D.E.s on his tail. No, that reason was purely because of the crumpled note within the folds of his robe. It was near blank, excessively heavy and expensive parchment considering the short note it held. "Soon." There was no smile on his face this time.
His footsteps were heavy as he entered the crowded room, shaking fists hidden by his sides. The owls raised a great clamor at his arrival, screeches and hoots masking his footfalls even as a few of the flock swooped down towards him. But he ignored them in order to walk to the open window, shoving his face into the cold and slightly biting wind even as he clutched the sill for stability. He wasn't ready for what his family wanted. He would never be ready to be a Death Eater. But the choice was being made for him. The choice had been made.
Blue eyes glanced to the ground far below and he leaned further out the window to let the cold wind run its sharp fingers through his hair, bringing a fresh scent of woods and autumn to the musty room.
There was something deeply comforting about the Owlery; about being hidden among the flutter and squawks of birds as they fought for space. His scent was hidden by the musty smell of the bedding on the floor, his footsteps hidden by the screeches. Yes, the Owlery was somewhere that Matty could escape to.
Like he was now. With his charcoal robe buttoned up to his throat and his curling locked tamed into submission like it had been the night of the battle. A battle that was near three entire nights ago. The tears over those who were lost or taken weren't yet done being shed. But that wasn't why the Irish pureblood was stalking up to the Owlery like a muggeborn with D.E.s on his tail. No, that reason was purely because of the crumpled note within the folds of his robe. It was near blank, excessively heavy and expensive parchment considering the short note it held. "Soon." There was no smile on his face this time.
His footsteps were heavy as he entered the crowded room, shaking fists hidden by his sides. The owls raised a great clamor at his arrival, screeches and hoots masking his footfalls even as a few of the flock swooped down towards him. But he ignored them in order to walk to the open window, shoving his face into the cold and slightly biting wind even as he clutched the sill for stability. He wasn't ready for what his family wanted. He would never be ready to be a Death Eater. But the choice was being made for him. The choice had been made.
Blue eyes glanced to the ground far below and he leaned further out the window to let the cold wind run its sharp fingers through his hair, bringing a fresh scent of woods and autumn to the musty room.
|| WORD COUNT: ### || NOTES: Blood traitors and feathers. || TAGS: Noah Weasley ||
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