 Kaplinski Rival Sorting Hat Machine
She smiled politely as he offered her a helping hand up into the carriage. Rather unlady like, she flopped down onto one of the velvety navy cushioned seats inside the carriage, glad to be off her feet, giving off a groan in relief.
Straightening her posture, she relaxed a little and smiled, trying not to tred on the long trails of her robe that so lightly glided across the floor of the compartment. As he stepped inside and the thestrals kicked off, she nodded toward a single slender bottle of white wine that stood on a miniature wooden table, placed neatly against the wall of the carriage, just beneath the window.
Closing the drapes, as it began to rain, she sighed, her dreams of walking back being drowned in the flooding droplets. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, running a finger over lips, she licked over where a cut had once been and pressed her lips together, smiling, stroking a hand over her knee. |