Sabriel shifted, uncomfortable. He cradled an arm as he was overcome with trepidation. It was his nose that found interest in the place, truly. His feet simply followed suit. But it was a bad idea; it seemed that he was not the only one with the destination in mind. Like a small child, he had allowed the scent of buttermilk pancakes and delicious spices to carry him into the diner. He'd read the name displayed out front, 'The Three Broomsticks'. And even as he stepped into the threshold, an absolute swarm of Wizards and Witches brushed passed him and swept him along, before finally depositing him somewhere near the counter.
Sabriel felt even more like a little child, very out of place among the bustling adults, all seeing fit to grab their morning coffee and set out. Those that were inclined to stay quickly filled up any remaining seats. No one really paid much mind to an insignificant little thing such as him. And even as Sabriel saw a few nearby that were vacant, he was quickly shoved out the way toward his goal. So he stood there, famished, waiting pliantly for someone -- anyone -- to finish their meal and allow to sit. The smells were all around him, making him dizzy. He was starving, really. His mother might be looking for him.
He was standing there, looking absolutely pathetic, for a good minute. Suddenly, a voice caught his attention. A woman with fiery red hair was beckoning him over for a seat. Gratefully, Sabriel took up her offer. He found it easier to maneuver than before, as everyone that had basically trampled over him now had a seat. Finally, he took a seat across from her.
"Thank you," he said quietly, gratefully. "You really did not have to .."
by Ginny Weasley-Potter Mon Oct 31, 2011 6:53 pm
