Elly Eriksson
October 16, 2008 5:47 PM
Biting off more than I can chew by Elly Eriksson
Just because the Quidditch season was over, it didn't mean that Elly should stop practising. In fact, she ought to practise really hard, because she knew for a fact she wasn't going to manage any Quidditch practise over the summer, as usual. Seeing as both her parents were Muggles and lived in Muggle housing estates (not that her back garden - and the term was used loosely - was big enough to mount a broomstick, let alone fly one) Elly couldn't risk even reading Quidditch magazines when she wasn't at Sonora. Better to make up for it now and then cover the difference when she came back in fifth year. Good grief, she did not feel old enough to be in fifth year soon. It seemed like only last week she was following Saul the Guide all round the school, relying on him entirely to get her to classes at time. Elly smiled at the memory and almost flew directly into one of the goal hoops, just at flying level. With a start she managed to twist down onto her broom and fly right through the hoop, but it was a close call.Shaking her head to clear it of distractions, Elly concentrated on flying. She did a couple of super fast laps of the pitch, and tried a loop-the-loop. It was still incredibly messy - nothing like Stephen's textbook perfect loops - but no-one could deny it was a loop. True, it wouldn't be much use in a game, probably, but the skills and tricks were still part of Quidditch. They helped maintain balance and poise; besides that, they were just exhilirating. Speaking of exhilirating, there was nothing that gave Elly a bigger adrenaline rush than trying that silly Wronski Feint. It was almost useless in a game situation, but diving itself was a finely honed skill. Elly couldn't do the trick, of course, but it was her aim to have mastered it before she left the school in her seventh year.
Circling round to the centre of the pitch, Elly held her breath and dived. She kept her eyes open as the ground appeared to rush up towards her. Elly gripped her trusty broom tightly with her knuckles and knees, leaning almost flat on her broom to get up the requisite speed. A few feet from the ground and all her common sense was telling her to pull up now. Now. NOW! Leaning sharply back, Elly halued her broom handle up towards her chest. Unfortunately she'd left it a split second too late - the very tip of her tail twigs caught the ground, flipping the broom handle back hard and sharp into Elly's cheek, and despositing her ungracefully on the muddy grass.
"Ow!" Elly though she did well not to swear. The ground was soft, but being dropped from head height onto her back was enough to wind her, and it damn well hurt. Besides, her face was throbbing where the broom handle had hit her, and there was a tell-tale metallic taste forming inside her mouth.
Gingerly, Elly got to her feet and cast a frown at her broom, hovering sheepishly a short distance away. "I know it's not your fault," she told it, then a sharp pain stopped her speaking and caused her to raise her hand to her cheek. It was sore, warm, and wet; a glance at her fingertips confirmed it was bleeding. Sighing, Elly knew she had to cut her practise short and head up to the hospital wing to get herself fixed up again.
(OOC: continued in Hospital Wing)
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Elly Eriksson
Biting off more than I can chew
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