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Jayden listened to her story, forming his own opinions and own insight as she went along and by the end of the brief monologue, his point of view had been formed. What he came up with was something on the contrary of what she believed in. His point of view was going to argue what she believed, but first, he had to know how she blames herself. In any event of such nature, the person could not possibly blame themselves. The blame would have to be at being at the wrong place at the wrong time. As she finished her speech, he began his part.

"Newlyn, you can not blame yourself for that. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. A six year old girl could not know any better. Heck, a six year old girl do not even comprehend what a full moon is. A better question is: how did a six year old girl come to believe that the whole death was her fault? That's what confuses me, because there hasn't been many cases like it, he said to her, brushing his hand through her hair. It was silky smooth and that's where he wanted to keep his hand.

"You are not messed up Newlyn. You are just like any other person. They have things they regret, things they can't get over, but they soon will get over it.

I don't ever wanna let you down
I don't ever wanna leave this town
'Cause after all, this city never sleeps at night

It's time to begin, isn't it: Devastated
I get a little bit bigger, but then I'll admit: I can't believe he's gone...
I'm just the same as I was: Alone
Now don't you understand that I'm never changing who I am: White Tomb

N E W L Y N | T A R A | V A S S
H U F F L E P U F F | B L O O D T R A I T O R | F O U R T H Y E A R

Newlyn Vass hadn't felt this alone since the day her mother died. The day her childhood ended. The day her father started hating her. She'd loved her mother, her mum, with every core of her being. She'd loved Jay with every core of her being. And now he was dead. Gone. She'd sat here with him, two years ago, and confided in him her darkest secrets. He'd told her he loved her here. She'd known him for three short years. But it felt like an eternity. Jay was her first crush, her first boyfriend, her first kiss, her first love. Had it been love? Real, true love? She didn't know. She was only fourteen. But so what if it hadn't been? Maybe he hadn't been the one, but what she had felt for him was so real, so alive, that now she felt dead. He'd changed her so much, and now he was gone. Was everyone she loved going to die? Was that her curse?

She stared up at the overcast sky, feeling the chill of late afternoon seep into her bones. The snow was so white it hurt her eyes. It was too quiet. Too somber. Newlyn gathered her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. Even the season was one of death. It was so perfectly fitting that she wanted to scream until she could scream no more. Her heart was thudding painfully inside of her chest and her breathing was harsh, rasping in and out in puffs of misty air. Tears streaked down her face, and the wet lines they left were only warm for a moment before they hardened and froze. Not long ago, she'd been so happy. She should have known it couldn't last. Newlyn shook and trembled, but not from the cold. A quiet anger rose up inside of her. "Why?! Why couldn't it last?! What's wrong with me?!" she screamed. It felt good to raise her voice for once. "Mum, Jay..." she sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry."



So this is where you fell
And I am left to sell
The path to heaven runs through miles of clouded hell
Right to the top don't look back

Miles shivered as he headed outside. He had his cloak on, and even that wasn't blocking most of the wind. Mostly he had come out to think, considering he needed to get something out of his head. Mostly the whole incident that led to... well, his wolfieness. He'd had a talk with apparently some older guy, who seemed really intimidating to him, especially his grim expression and his no-nonsense attitude. Plus, the guy didn't seem like he could crack a smile, ever. How did that work, anyway? He couldn't even imagine. Apparently it was a mistake, him being bitten, though Miles was sure that the wolf last night had tried to eat him. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, wondering what color his fur would be. Red like his hair? Wouldn't that make it really hard for him to blend in?

He sighed, and looked around, thinking he might have gotten sidetracked. At least until he spotted someone sitting near the tomb. A frown marred his features as he approached. Wait, wasn't that the seventh year Gryffindor girl? He wracked his brain for a name, and blinked. Remy. That was the name that Jason gave him, wasn't it? Okay, well, he had two options. One was to run like hell over to the forest and maybe get eaten by an acromantula, but he wasn't going to do that. The other was to walk up to her and talk. Yeah, talk. Okay, so how was he going to break the ice again? Something along the lines of, 'Hey, I'm Miles. You bit me in the forest, and well, now we both have a furry problem?' That even sounded bad in his head. Running a hand through his hair again, he exhaled forcefully before deciding to go about this another way.

He walked up, smiling. "You know, for being a werewolf, it really sucks that we don't get fur all the time. I mean, think about it. If we had the fur we got once a month all month, we wouldn't have to worry about cloaks, right? Though washing and drying it would be a pain. Cna you imagine having to towel-dry all of that fur? That would give me nightmares." Okay, fur talk. Great ice breaker, right? Or she might bite him again. Well, it was worth a shot, right?

Miles blinked, remembering what the older man had said. Well, it had been along the lines of what he shouldn't do as a werewolf, really. Which he figured was common sense. No biting people and take wolfsbane, that was easy enough to remember. But he had to get the girl to laugh at least a little bit. She looked like someone whose puppy had just died. "You mean the scary old bloke who looked like he couldn't smile to save the life of him, lass? All hairy and bad tempered? Yeah, he told me. Also told me he mighta been a tad harsh on you. Dunno why, though. It wasn't like you meant to bite me or anything. Just an accident."

He scratched his head, a rueful smile on his face. "Besides, it'll give me an excuse never to eat peas again. My... my mum and da always tried to get me to eat them, and I really hated peas. This, well, it kind of makes me almost a carnivore, no no more green squishy balls for the rest of my life. Also, I bet I can see how loud I can howl now, or chase my own tail. Or heck, might even see about keeping some squeaky toys around to chew on, you know? If I can't have fun with the whole thing, I think I'd be a lot more depressed than I otherwise am."

Miles wondered how the guy was, honestly. He wasn't too sure about the guy, though when Remy said something about the guy not leaving him alone, he scratched his head. So, stalkerish, okay. Well, he did kind of ask for it in a way. Though, when she mentioned how he cared about his packmates, he blinked a bit. "Packmates? You mean like a wolf pack? Makes total sense. I mean, I hadn't considered there being something like that meself, but then again, I haven't been a werewolf for long, maybe a dozen hours at the most."

When Remy apologized over biting him, Miles frowned a bit. He wasn't upset, mostly just thinking he was the dumb one that should have stayed in the castle. "Eh, don't beat yourself up over it, lass. Besides, I kind of know you from Music Club, since I go there too. And um, yeah, I should tell you me name, huh? That would probably stop you from calling me 'hey boy, at the very least. Miles McLellan, Hufflepuff. There, now we both know each other. Now, bigger question is, How are you not cold in this wind?"

 

 


☩I'm always ṡ¢яεαмιиģ my lungs out 'til my head starts รקเภภเภﻮ☩  
☩Won't keep my νøι¢ε down☩  
☩Know the words I รקєคк are the τнøυģнτṡ I think out ใ๏ย๔☩  


Jaslyn wrapped her coat around her tighter, staring up at the blistering cold grey skies. It was just barely starting to snow and it was mid day. She had been smart though and wore several layers as well as her apparently now customary big coat. She was out on this cold day for one particular reason. Well 2 really. She had been drawing the white tomb while she waited but had finished her sketch and now had the book tucked away in her bag. The other reason she was here was because she was waiting.


Earlier she had sent a letter to Chance with only a few words written on it. 'meet me at the white tomb -Jaslyn'. She had spent a lot of time thinking and she hadn't really gotten time to actually talk to Chance in what seemed like ages. All summer and now half the year had passed and the most conversation she had had with him was a short one at the stands during the very first game of the year. Now it was time to talk.  



☩Let's leave no words ยภรק๏кєภ, and save яεģяετṡ for the вяøќεи.☩  
☩Will you even look ๒คςк when you think of мε?☩  
☩I know to keep my hopes up ђเﻮђ, and my head down ℓøω.☩