Run And Hide Away pv

ℬrookline hurried around the castle, stiffly, as she would chew at her nails, nervously. She could barely hear the shhhh, shhh, swisshh, of her dark Jeans. and her blue eyes remained guarded. A shaky feeling began to rise in her chest, and her heart beat faster. Wasn’t this, like, the fourth time she’d lost that dang cat?

The Welsh girl had returned to Ravenclaw tower, after the day’s classes, with zero sign of Tigeress. She looked around for Dove, her roommate Ophelia’s kitten, but the dorm’s door had been shut closed, and Dove being somewhere else with Ophelia. Brookline instantly panicked, and chose a simpler outfit then robes to run around Hogwarts, searching for her beloved kitten. A light purple shirt with flowy sleeves and black Jeans. That’ll do, she finalized. She didn’t do anything to her hair. She had put in a not-so-dashing messy bun that dreadful morning, and it had called out, making her hair appear very messy and frazzled. In some placed her natural curls were just wavy bits of her hair, and since she had not brushed her hair in a very long while, her hair looked kinda burnt in some places.

She then tore apart her trunk, tossing her belongings and items out and around her bed, making sure her kitten was’t inside where she couldn’t see. She flung her neatly made covers off the bed, because she knew Tigeress liked to make nest underneath the warm blankets. Brookline even looked in her laundry as she also knew Tigeress also liked to sleep inside. It was probably nice and cozy. With freshly washed and warm clothes on your coat of fur. Most likely it felt like the yellow rays of the sun shining upon your fur as well.

You damn cat. Why must you always run and hide away. She thought, angry at first. Then she stood up from her clothes, and spun around in a 360 degree circle, flashing around the dorm-room. She suddenly calmed down, but a fresh wave of anxiety washed over her, causing her to be nervous that she’d never see her kitten again.

“Tigeress! Tigeress, where are you, girl?” She’d call, her hand cupped ‘round her mouth, and Brookline then said, “Please. Don’t play hide-and-go-seek with me. That game won’t ever be fun when you hide away. From my sight.”

She left the Ravenclaw tower to be found strolling quickly along the corridors, the Ravenclaw stopped every so often to squat down, and look for paw prints. Who knew? Perhaps Tigeress went out in the gardens and came back in and tracked fifty tracks from the dirt in... No luck, no paw prints on the polished floor. Would she go that desperate to put up posters like she heard Muggles do in the Muggle world? No, she said in her head, She’ll come around. She always does. Right...?

Brookline ducked into a empty classroom, to look along the desks, in front of the desks, behind the desks, underneath the desk, to the side of the desks. And look in the corners of the classroom. She continued in the other classrooms, exclaiming, “Tigeress, hey, girl! Where are you? Tigeress!” And she groaned every time she was caught up with a dead end, no Tigeress. It reminded her of the race, early May. She was stuck in the maze, along with Aurora, and she remembered all the dizzy dead ends all around her. She had thought she’d never get out.

Fingers shaking, Brookline found herself in the Outdoor Club. Tigeress showed her explicit express in the gardens and the girl always thought they were her kitten’s favorite place. Her dark blue eyes would look below the bushes and she looked below, pushing scratchy and thorny branches aside. A thorn slipped against her finger, and blood dripped down from the wound. “Ouch! That hurt!” She voiced her complaint, her finger stinging with pain, and her pale lips mended into a sour frown. She pinched her finger, to clot the blood, and continued on her trek to find safe Tigeress, if that even counted as saving. Perhaps the tabby did not want to be found.

Well, she better want to be found. Because - because, I’m scared... Brookline thought, clutching her other hand.

Oh, so you finally admit it. You’re scared, A echoing taunt curled next her ear, and Brookline huffed. She hated the voices. They were always so annoying, and they wouldn’t ever stop. This was so annoying. Her searching for Tigeress is so annoying. Why wouldn’t anything be normal?

She sighed. Nothing could be normal. Everything happy has be erased away by him, and nothing could ever change that, she thought, Nothing. My father was cruel, and took away all my happy. And it’s all my fault.

She knew when her father ran away during Easter holiday, he had said it wasn’t her fault but perhaps he just wanted it to appear that way. Of course it was her fault that he ran away the second time. She wanted him to stay, and come inside, and she said she loved him. She wasn’t masking her sadness. That was the problem. She wasn’t on guard that sad day.

Brookline now found herself sitting on a wooden bench, the blood from her finger still not resolved. It just kept bleeding. And she just kept applying pressure til the bleeding was resolved. Shit, this is a pretty bad cut. That thorn was something, she thought, and winced, pain and anxiety swimming around in the dark watery depths of her deep blue irises.

She hoped Tigeress would race out now, and her tigeress-ish blur would be what would lift the young Quinn’s spirits, and her in a better mood for the rest of the day.

Her kitten didn’t and Brookline was ready to call off her personal, little search party, to take a little nap in her dorm-room (if she could), and simply wait for Tigeress to show up.

Just a little bit longer. The girl told herself, and her attention was fixed on the scenery around her, as if she was admiring the wonders around her. But, atlas, her lips was pressed into a scared, firm line, obviously pointing out her pushed annoyance, and sharp pain. And in her eyes, highlighted all the anxiety, all the sorrow, all the fear shining throughout the ocean color. This was probably longest Tigeress had even been missing, and Brookline was getting more than borderline scared. No, Tigeress must be hurt, or something much worst.

ooc notes: mentioning Ophelia Northwell (permission granted )