Quidditch Spectator Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor - Spring 2024

@Finnegan Connor and @Rebecca Lark

The fleeting spring breeze accompanying the day, carried the promise of triumphs both sweet and swift. For whom remained yet to be seen. Two very capable teams gathered on the Quidditch Pitch today, but only one would be leaving with bragging rights for winning their last Quidditch match of the school year. With that in mind, both were sure to put up one hell of a fight today. Or at least that was what Xailah hoped for.

Within reason of course- helping keep a hospital wing fully booked with Quidditch players afloat, wasn't exactly how she wanted to spend the rest of her afternoon, if it could be helped.

She came for the brooms usually- like the self-proclaimed broom enthusiast that she was; observing how fellow fliers customized their wooden steeds was a joy- yet this time around it was risk that would draw her to the stands. Risk of loss. Risk for conquest. How far were Gryffindor and Ravenclaw willing to push themselves for one last reward? She was curious to know.

She'd ponder the idea while pressing a whole in-shell peanut between a gloved thumb and the second knuckle of her index finger. With a soft crack the legume opened to reveal two small nutty nuggets, both of which were dumped into the palm of her free hand and offered to the magnificently round cat seated next to her (which he consumed eagerly with concentrated crunches). As for the shells, they were discarded discreetly on a growing pile opposite the feline. There was truly never a better ballgame snack than the delectable, salted goober pea- or so the felidae woman had heard. She hadn't a strong opinion on the subject, but perhaps Schrödinger would've had something to say about it, had he the ability to speak.

It was outside the nature of Quidditch, to host so many glum looking faces. Well, maybe not glum- but the first few players to take their positions on the pitch certainly were quiet. There was a clear aversion of eye contact between some of them. Those benched were a similar story, although they looked more disinterested than anything- which was a ridiculous idea when taking into account they were surrounded by fast brooms. Although, there was one specific girl on the benches that had momentarily caught Xailah's eye: a fledgling in possession of pretty chestnut hair, that gave her the resemblance of a little shaggy-eared dog. She looked worried above all else- which was curious considering who she passively shot glances at.

Scanning the pitch, sights would quickly mark out the scruffy face of- who was working out to be- a hospital wing regular: Finnegan Connor. He seemed a sweet child, even if the accidents that brought him to the wing implied a nose for mischief- and misfortune. Hopefully he could avoid another few days confined to a hospital cot, if the fates were feeling particularly kind this afternoon.

In any case, he'd silently be wished the best of luck... even if it wouldn't last him long, seeing as he was already taking a penalty lap for a blatch- and an embarrassingly unsuccessful one at that. Ah well, it was a good effort and a very bold one at that. If success was not written in his destiny for the day, then at least he could live up to the biggest stereotype of his house. With a start like that, this was bound to make for an interesting match (if a tedious one for the teams).

Not open to interactions unless approached about them beforehand (owl/dm), but feel free to make observations.

Spectating the game, admiring the brooms, feeding her cat.