Deagret Wyckland

Oct. 1, 2019, 3:16 p.m.

Curtain up on a new year!

This was it. She was back.

Second year.

Wow.

Deagret could hardly manage to think straight, with all the excitement that had built up over the last few months. She was finally going to see her friends! And scheme! And go to class! And to the library! It was good to be back.

Everything was so familiar. The Opening Feast, and the Diner itself, and all the faces of her house members. Deagret took a deep breath, closed her eyes. She could practically taste the atmosphere: warm, inviting, and nostalgic like a flavor you remember from childhood but can't quite place.

A lot had changed, though. There were faces she didn't recognize (obviously, the new first years), and seventh year graduates were gone. She was a little sad about that, but hey, Deagret didn't know them all that well. She just didn't want to think about the day she'd walk into the Finer Diner and Kit wasn't there. That thought really sucked.

And she couldn't forget The Incident. The Incident, which had resulted in getting her chopped down to hang below chin and swing just above her shoulders, and the thin, arched bangs that covered her forehead. Her mother had insisted it would help the style look a little more natural for Deagret. The redhead just missed her long hair, and resolved to stay pissed at her younger cousin Michael (she still loved him...just not as much).

Her mother had insisted that she put something in her hair, as well. Had said something about her "looking like a ragamuffin" or whatever. So, Deagret had begrudgingly tied a tiny black bow into the hair at the crown of her head and then begrudgingly admitted that it did make her look a little more put together.

It was still quite odd, though, not having her long hair. She kept reaching up to play with it, or smooth it out, only to find she was grasping at air.

But! It was a near year, and she decided she wasn't going to dwell on the past. Deagret grabbed a plate and began to fill it up quickly, her first bite from a slice of apple pie. Taking a seat by the fire, the second year let herself warm up as she focused on eating her food before a familiar voice called out to her.

Looking up, she swallowed before smiling brightly. "Hey! How are you doing?" It was dull, and short, but she was in the middle of eating her food, so it was best to keep it dull and short unless the other person wanted to watch her eat with her mouth opened.

New Post Back to Board