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**Mathys de Nostredame** · 11-12-2019, 02:02 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by BanaBatGirl

They weren't TALES, Monsieur! But Bernie, wisely, held her tongue, because she remembered that SOME animals might be sensitive to sound, and also because she felt like they were all LOOKING at her right now and she wanted them to LIKE HER, okaaaaay. If they liked Notredamez, she probably SHOULDN'T argue with him, so then they would like her TOO. She'd be good.

She held her head up, proud of herself for not talking back, and still trotting along slightly behind De Notrede Dame. "Ummmmmmmm," the first year began to turn red at his question, like a small vine-ripened, sun-dried tomato which would be perfect in a savoury quiche, "No?" Why was that a question, and why were people here always trying to get her to sing?

"No," she sounded more sure now, "I have nevair sung to a winged horse." Or an unwinged one.

Tales. If he had meant to insult her he would have called them fables.

He took her lack of acknowledgement for the black skeletal bodies in the stalls to either side of them reason enough to conclude that she could not see thestrals yet. A pity and a blessing wrapped in one for her.

"Zen ziss ees ze perfect opportunity to try for ze first time," he encouraged with a dashing side smirk. "Do you know ze song Le Vieux MacDonald a une Ferme?"

11-12-2019, 02:02 AM	#6 (permalink)
Mathys de Nostredame Dementor Join Date: Aug 2019 Posts: 91	merci ;) the sky is always there for me ☀ ☁ heavy hearts like heavy clouds Quote: Originally Posted by BanaBatGirl They weren't TALES, Monsieur! But Bernie, wisely, held her tongue, because she remembered that SOME animals might be sensitive to sound, and also because she felt like they were all LOOKING at her right now and she wanted them to LIKE HER, okaaaaay. If they liked Notredamez, she probably SHOULDN'T argue with him, so then they would like her TOO. She'd be good. She held her head up, proud of herself for not talking back, and still trotting along slightly behind De Notrede Dame. "Ummmmmmmm," the first year began to turn red at his question, like a small vine-ripened, sun-dried tomato which would be perfect in a savoury quiche, "No?" Why was that a question, and why were people here always trying to get her to sing? "No," she sounded more sure now, "I have nevair sung to a winged horse." Or an unwinged one. Tales. If he had meant to insult her he would have called them fables. He took her lack of acknowledgement for the black skeletal bodies in the stalls to either side of them reason enough to conclude that she could not see thestrals yet. A pity and a blessing wrapped in one for her. "Zen ziss ees ze perfect opportunity to try for ze first time," he encouraged with a dashing side smirk. "Do you know ze song Le Vieux MacDonald a une Ferme?" __________________