For the thrill of adventure!
Beowulf had been itching to get out to the Care of Magical Creatures area from the second he had arrived at the school, sure many were interested in which houses they would be sorted into, others talking about all the many mysteries that the school housed but Beowulf had been practically buzzing beneath the skin about getting over to the magical creatures yards.
His dad had talked about it for years, the enclosures, the stables, the paddock at the tree line where they brought the bigger creatures out for lessons, and Beowulf had built the whole thing up in his head into something probably twice as grand as it actually was.
Now that he was here, he was not disappointed, heck as far as he was concerned the reality was better.
The stables were squat and rough-hewn, stone walls scrubbed but still weathered, ivy worming its way through the ironwork on the windows, looking like they'd been here longer than the castle and fully intended to outlast it, but had a feeling of genuine care that could only come from a caring and dedicated care of magical creatures professor and some dedicated hard worker assistants.
The area was mostly empty at the moment without classes running. That didn't particularly matter to the odd large lad, heck most of if not all the creatures used to teach students were out in the forest that bordered the grounds, the legendary forbidden forest that he so itched to wander into and explore too, though he knew he wasn't allowed for good reasons and would respect that for now, at least until he figured out a safe way to enter and explore.
He also paid respect to the big wooden door on the front of the stables had a sign in curly lettering that read NO ENTRY WITHOUT PROFESSOR, he would follow these rules at the very least, of all his classes care of magical creatures was the one he was most eager for, that he most wanted to ace and he most wanted to leave a positive impression on the professor in hopes he'd be allowed to help out with the creatures.
One of the things he loved above all was that the place wasn't dead, that was the thing, even without a lesson on, with everyone preoccupied around the school, he could hear things, from somewhere inside the stables, something was shifting its weight, a low heavy shuffling followed every now and then a sound he couldn't quite place, halfway between a hiss and a rumble, like a very large cat that was absolutely not a cat, it thrilled his imagination.
He'd done a full lap of the outside already, peered through every gap he could reach, found them either barred or blocked.
He'd spent a good ten minutes studying the murals on the outer enclosure wall, layers of paint stacked on top of each other from decades of students and professors, none of them caring what had been there before, he liked that too.
Now he was sat on one of the upright tree stumps near the unlit fire pit, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands, perfectly still, just listening, cataloguing and trying to match the sounds to anything his dad had described from fieldwork or his own studies.
The shuffling could be hooves but it could also be paws, the rumble ruled out most birds, far too low for a Jobberknoll, not wet enough for a Kneazle, he didn't have much other points of reference so he started to try making things up. He didn't need to get inside though he desperately wanted to. He didn't need to see it or touch it, see if it preferred pats or a needed a strong wrestling, but despite wanting to see the many creatures and what was hidden just inside, he was perfectly content to sit here and puzzle it out on his own, that was enough to keep him planted on this stump until someone either came to teach a class or physically removed him from the area.
A magpie had landed on the fence rail a few feet to his left, a bold little thing, probably used to students dropping food for it.
It kept tilting its head at him like it was deciding whether he had anything worth stealing.
"Here ya go, hope it's enough fer ye" he remarks, rummaging in his pack and pulling out the lunch he'd snuck from the grand hall, giving the magpie some lean meats, though many others would give it bread he knew how bad bread could be for birds and would never give them any.
The magpie however was not overly impressed, it looked at the sandwich he'd pulled the meat from as though he were going to crumble it up and feed it to the bird, to dash that thought he swallowed the remaining sandwich, now two pieces of bread with a sad bit of lettuce in between and nudged the sandwich meats towards the bird again.
As the bird settled for what he'd offered he heard footsteps crunching on the path behind him, shoes on gravel, and spoke without turning around expecting to be lectured.
"If you're here about the sign and not wanting me to go in, I promise I'm not planning on it, I'm just enjoying listening to the critters and trying to guess as to what may be beyond."
@Angel O'Connor
His dad had talked about it for years, the enclosures, the stables, the paddock at the tree line where they brought the bigger creatures out for lessons, and Beowulf had built the whole thing up in his head into something probably twice as grand as it actually was.
Now that he was here, he was not disappointed, heck as far as he was concerned the reality was better.
The stables were squat and rough-hewn, stone walls scrubbed but still weathered, ivy worming its way through the ironwork on the windows, looking like they'd been here longer than the castle and fully intended to outlast it, but had a feeling of genuine care that could only come from a caring and dedicated care of magical creatures professor and some dedicated hard worker assistants.
The area was mostly empty at the moment without classes running. That didn't particularly matter to the odd large lad, heck most of if not all the creatures used to teach students were out in the forest that bordered the grounds, the legendary forbidden forest that he so itched to wander into and explore too, though he knew he wasn't allowed for good reasons and would respect that for now, at least until he figured out a safe way to enter and explore.
He also paid respect to the big wooden door on the front of the stables had a sign in curly lettering that read NO ENTRY WITHOUT PROFESSOR, he would follow these rules at the very least, of all his classes care of magical creatures was the one he was most eager for, that he most wanted to ace and he most wanted to leave a positive impression on the professor in hopes he'd be allowed to help out with the creatures.
One of the things he loved above all was that the place wasn't dead, that was the thing, even without a lesson on, with everyone preoccupied around the school, he could hear things, from somewhere inside the stables, something was shifting its weight, a low heavy shuffling followed every now and then a sound he couldn't quite place, halfway between a hiss and a rumble, like a very large cat that was absolutely not a cat, it thrilled his imagination.
He'd done a full lap of the outside already, peered through every gap he could reach, found them either barred or blocked.
He'd spent a good ten minutes studying the murals on the outer enclosure wall, layers of paint stacked on top of each other from decades of students and professors, none of them caring what had been there before, he liked that too.
Now he was sat on one of the upright tree stumps near the unlit fire pit, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands, perfectly still, just listening, cataloguing and trying to match the sounds to anything his dad had described from fieldwork or his own studies.
The shuffling could be hooves but it could also be paws, the rumble ruled out most birds, far too low for a Jobberknoll, not wet enough for a Kneazle, he didn't have much other points of reference so he started to try making things up. He didn't need to get inside though he desperately wanted to. He didn't need to see it or touch it, see if it preferred pats or a needed a strong wrestling, but despite wanting to see the many creatures and what was hidden just inside, he was perfectly content to sit here and puzzle it out on his own, that was enough to keep him planted on this stump until someone either came to teach a class or physically removed him from the area.
A magpie had landed on the fence rail a few feet to his left, a bold little thing, probably used to students dropping food for it.
It kept tilting its head at him like it was deciding whether he had anything worth stealing.
"Here ya go, hope it's enough fer ye" he remarks, rummaging in his pack and pulling out the lunch he'd snuck from the grand hall, giving the magpie some lean meats, though many others would give it bread he knew how bad bread could be for birds and would never give them any.
The magpie however was not overly impressed, it looked at the sandwich he'd pulled the meat from as though he were going to crumble it up and feed it to the bird, to dash that thought he swallowed the remaining sandwich, now two pieces of bread with a sad bit of lettuce in between and nudged the sandwich meats towards the bird again.
As the bird settled for what he'd offered he heard footsteps crunching on the path behind him, shoes on gravel, and spoke without turning around expecting to be lectured.
"If you're here about the sign and not wanting me to go in, I promise I'm not planning on it, I'm just enjoying listening to the critters and trying to guess as to what may be beyond."
@Angel O'Connor