Snowy Meanderings (Open)

Tightening her scarf around her neck just a little bit, Rowan smiled as she followed the cleared path down to The Black Lake. She knew the water was frozen over, but the view and th comfort of the near by forest line was just what the doctor ordered after a long day of catching up with her reading and preparations for the start of term following the Holidays. Slipping her hands into her coat pockets, Rowan breathed deeply the air around her. She could make out the smell of the trees, a few faint scents of animals, and, her favorite, the snow. Not the snow on the ground, but the snow that was foreshadowed by the low, white clouds that blanketed the sky. Rowan didn't know when the snow was going to fall, but it was going to be soon. Be that as it may, the lion made her way down to the lake. Glancing up at the white sky, Rowan smiled as a kiss of a cold breeze touched her cheeks. Feeling a little spring in her step liven up her walk, the Gryffindor let her mind drift off as the stunning frozen lake came into view...

Alistair usually despised the cold. He hated it. All the extra layers of clothes it required him to wear and the snow. How he loathed snow. Especially when it snuck it’s way into his boots and made his feet freeze. But for some reason, he wanted to go outside. So he put on all his extra layers and made his way to the black lake. He looked over the frozen water and smiled softly to himself. He noticed another persons presence but paid no mind to it. Although his nose told him it was in fact another werewolf. If they approached him, he would talk. If not, he would keep to himself.

Reaching the lake, Rowan smiled brightly. The view was stunning! As the breeze kicked up a little bit of snow, she caught the scent of another like her. However, since her sense of smell wasn't as fine tuned as other werewolves, she couldn't tell where it was coming from or really who it was. However, she thought she had smelled this one before, she just didn't know from where. Scanning the area, she spotted one of her housemates. Raising her hand, Rowan waved happily to him. If memory served her.... She believed his name was Alistair. She'd not formally met the boy, but she'd seen him off and on in her four years here in the common room and Great Hall. As she neared him, she called, almost melodically, "Quite a sight, isn't it? Care for some company?" If he preferred to be on his own, Rowan would oblige. After all, some people wanted to be solitary while others did not.

(OOC: Rowan's scent is very light. Kind of there and gone and back, but always light. Her application lists some things that might be helpful for play. )

Alistair looked over to the voice and smirked. He knew of the girl. She was a younger year from his house. Novel, he believed. But he couldn’t recall a first name. Then again, alistair was horrible with names if he didn’t associate more than three times a week. “Doesn’t matter to me either way.” He said non chalantly when she asked if he wanted company. Which was true. He could be alone or with her, it didn’t matter to him. “What are you doing out here in weather like this?”

Smiling at his nonchalant answer, Rowan approached him, slipping her hand back into her pocket. "I could ask you the same thing," she mused, brightly. Glancing out over the frozen water, she lifted her eyes to the heavy clouds and replied, "I love the snow. I thought, maybe, I could catch the snowfall that seems ready to happen anytime now." Bringing her brown eyes back to the older boy, she asked, playfully, "So what about you? Why are you out here?"

"Im the complete opposite. I hate the cold. I hate the snow." He said with a chuckle "I usually avoid leaving my room during the winters. But for some reason I felt drawn to the lake today." He looked out of the frozen body of water and smiled softly "It truly is beautiful, though." He said more to himself than he did to her, but he knew she would still hear his words.

Rowan tipped her head and furrowed her brow slightly. How could someone not like the snow and cold? Then again, she wasn't a fan of the overly hot summers. Thankfully, where her family lived, the summers were pretty temperate. "Maybe the Snow Spirits were calling you," the young lion offered with a smile. The story of the Snow Spirits was a favorite of hers that her Paw Paw told her on winter nights when she was stuck inside. Following his gaze, Rowan sighed softly and nodded. "It really is, isn't it? It's even prettier when the snow is falling," she said, "I'm Rowan, by the way. We're in the same house."

Alistair looked over st the young girl with a raised eyebrow “the snow spirits?” He asked chuckling “what the hell are those?” He nodded and shivered a bit as a cold breeze blew around them. He tightened his jacket around his body and cursed under his breath. When she introduced himself he nodded at her again “alistair. And I think we are”

The boys response make Rowan chuckle lightly. "It's a story my Grandfather tells on the cold wintry days. The Snow Spirits are like fairies that are in charge of the winter and everything in it. When it's cold enough to snow, the Snow Spirits all get together to make special magic that makes the snow in the clouds fall. Their magic also makes the snow flakes be unique from one another," she explained. She knew it was only a story since snow is just frozen water droplets, but it was still a nice story. "Some say, the Spirits call you when something important is about to happen or you are needed for something," she added. As a gust of cold wind kicked up, Rowan tucked in a little to her coat until the air settled. When he introduced himself, the lion nodded, "It's nice to meet you formally, Alistair."

Alistair thought her story was abolsutely ridiculous, but he nodded none the less. He did not always say his thoughts. He smiled softly at her "Nice to meet you too." He stared out over the frozen lake and sighed. He was freezing, yet he stayed, he had no idea why "What year are you?"

There was a pause between when she finished her story and the boy speaking, but when he did speak again, he said he was happy to meet her. When he asked her what year she was in, she replied, "I'm a fourth year. What about you? I don't recall you in any of my classes, so.... I'm guessing yours at least a fifth year or more." Glancing towards the treeline, Rowan's slightly heightened sense of sight picked up a glimmer of white dance through the trees. A unicorn, perhaps? Just as quickly as it was there, the creature was gone.