𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖟𝖊𝖓 𝕽𝖎𝖕𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖘
The Gryffindor's shadow loomed around the lake again. It was bright and slightly warmer that day, atypical of this island. Over the past months, what once rattled her interest and sapped her focus faded from her thoughts. She began to turn back to her responsibilities as a student. Exam season was coming up next month and she had felt sluggish from the distractions, be it thoughts of past friends or the nauseating overstimulation of sounds and smells and sights typical of a magic school. The girl leaned by the lakeside tree with a book in hand, having gotten used to the discomfort of strange creatures in the water.
Summer seemed so long ago, and Sinclair had long since accepted that she did not care about the loss of her aunt and uncle. Whether it was "right" or "wrong" was another matter. Logically, it was sad, but it simply did not reflect in her feelings. Logically, the most productive thing to do was move on and save one's energy for what still existed. That was that.
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The scent was so strong that she could taste the iron draining from the deer upon the butcher's hook.
"Seems like there's a high demand for venison this year." The tendons in her fingers were stiff from the cold as she held the creature's legs, while her mother skinned the deer.
"Gotta keep bellies full and warm on Christmas," Liz Carver muttered with slight strain, "Ed will be here later to pick up the meat. They don't want the head, so let's put it out back and let nature have at it."
"I'd like to keep the skull."
"You'd have to wait until summer when you're home, kiddo. The owls and bugs should be done by then."
────✦────
Despite the detachment, she'd clung onto the idea of that haunting blonde she'd met during her first year longer than she expected. Syrah was just...enchanting. Just like a curse, the words repeated in her mind. It was confusing to her, frustrated her, but seeing as these feelings were nothing but a dead end, she told herself it was better to let go too. Logically, it made more sense than grieving a relationship she felt apprehensive to call a friendship.
A little piece of her closed itself that day.
