The hazards of a stray Quaffle Ruthie Lark Clo

Hard work was not something that came naturally to the Ravenclaw, except perhaps when it came to Quidditch. This was most likely because Quidditch was not work; it was freedom. Plus it gave her the opportunity to spend time with friends. Lark was perhaps the one she trained with the most in part because she was still getting accustomed to her role as reserve keeper and in part because they were, quite frankly, the best of friends. Jorah had been first, but look what a disaster that had become. Thora ranked highly too, and her social awkwardness was kind of cute in a way. But Lark took the cake after all they'd been through. Ruthie loved to spend time with the metamorphagus, who was becoming not only her closest confidant, but a strong keeper. She'd never want to see Dymph knocked out in a match, but if she did, Lark would be ready. She was sure of that.

They were up in the sky, each on their respective Comet 180 (good choice Lark had made) and practicing scoring/blocking when an unsuspecting boy walked onto the pitch. Ruthie did not notice the boy at first; she was much too busy working on her aim--both to prep herself to face the Hufflepuff keeper, and to give Lark something to work with that wasn't easy. Lark was doing well so it was time to up the pace. Once she had the quaffle back in hand, she flew at her with speed, every couple seconds darting ever so slightly to the left, then the right. One...two...three...a triple deke!

It was a bold move, one much beyond her skill level as her aim was clearly off when the quaffle zoomed off towards the side, heading straight towards this unsuspecting boy. From where she hovered, she didn't recognize him--she only saw the back of his head--but she still gripped the broom handle and flew off to pursue the quaffle. Hopefully, she would reach it before impact.

Luckily, she didn't have to. Lark was already there, like the talented keeper Ruthie already knew her to be. "What a catch, Lark!" Ruthie called out, as she leaned back to slow down now that the boy was out of trouble. As she did so, she recognized the boy finally from his voice and the way his features came more fully into view. "Sorry about that Cormac! You all right, there?" she asked, giving him a wave and an apologetic grin. She would have sworn no one had been around when they started, but she didn't mind viewers. That's what a match was, after all. Who knows maybe the boy with the crazy old owl was interested in Quidditch. She'd even show him pointers if that was the case. They always needed to be thinking ahead--what the team might look like a few years down the line. She looked over at Lark to see how she was doing, if any hair color was changing or anything because of this near-miss. Ruthie had to admit, it was fun watching Lark's feature change every once in a while.

Interacting with @Lark Flaer & @Cormac McCarthy

»»————-　✼ @Ruthie Greer @Cormac McCarthy ✼ 　————-««

Practicing had started to become quite routine and something to look forward to for Lark. It meant spending even more time with her best friend but also getting out of the often stuffy castle. Not to mention it had made her feel much more confident with her position as reserve Keeper. Her father had wanted constant updates which was kind of him and made her feel like the move to join her house team had helped patch up some of their slightly rocky relationship as of late.

Today Ruthie definitely wasn't holding back and Lark was thankful for it. She appreciated the honest practicing they did together, it gave her a better handle on what in-game would be like as a Keeper. Leaving the pitch out of breath was always a good feeling. It made falling asleep at night much easier as well even if it meant waking up feeling stiff. Stretching out her shoulder, Lark readied herself for another Quaffle to zip towards her. She needed to focus... even if her mind was still caught up with the upcoming holiday all the girls had been buzzing about in the Common Room.. No.. focus. Ruthie was flying at her.. Focus But what if everyone else got some sort of candies from their- FOCUS and meanwhile I won't even- Ruthie was closing in and maneuvering too fast for Lark to pay attention to with her mind wandering.

FOCUS!
Her thoughts snapped back to reality as it registered the quaffle leaving her friend's hand sending it across the pitch. "Oh-" Cursing under her breath Lark leaning into her broom and raced off towards the ball. Noticing the trajectory towards a poor unsuspecting boy, Lark gripped her broom handle tighter almost willing it to pick up speed. Hair whipping behind her Lark picked up pace on the quaffle, her arms tucked against her sides and leaning further into her broom to gain more momentum.

Almost..... there..... almost...

Pulling back ever so slightly and leaning into a turn she reached out with her right hand and held tight to the ball, her fingers gripping the nicely curved inset on one side. Skirting around the young boy, her broom slowed as it rounded him before taking back off towards Ruthie. That was close.. too close.. she would not have enjoyed taking out one of her peers with the Quaffle just because she couldn't catch. That might get her set off the team too.

Slowing her broom, ball tucked safely under her arm and starting to feel a little drained, Lark heard the boy call after her. She gave a nervous wave and looked to Ruthie who called out to him. They must know one another, a ball to his face definitely wouldn't have been good.. if they were on good terms Lark would feel awful not saving one of Ruthie's friends. A bit of embarrassment snaked into the girl's features turning the ends of her hair a pale pink. "Sorry about that!" She yelled back down to the boy. As she reached earshot of Ruthie, Lark tossed her the Quaffle gently. "Maybe that's our sign ta take ah' break?" Lark asked half of her hoping Ruthie would agree.