Summer had, much to her surprise, passed out immediately after slipping into the cheaply made sleeping bag. It was far from her ideal sleeping conditions; her skin and clothes were still dotted with dirt and bits of foliage, she was surrounded by at least one person who she actively despised, and she could hear
wildlife. Normally this would have kept the teenager up for hours but thankfully, the fatigue of the day had quickly caught up with her, and she’d had to suffer for only mere seconds. Whether from the ritual or just the general shitstorm that had been the proceeding few hours, the witch slept long and undisturbed, only to be woken by the gentle shake of Sister Lark.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting up...” She mumbled as she ran her fingers through her long locks of ginger hair, attempting to untangle some of the knots that had gathered there overnight. Glancing around, she saw that most of the other witches had already awakened, with only a couple of figures being left around her. She was used to getting up at the crack of dawn for track or gymnastics practice, so it was a strange feeling to be one of the last to rouse. Rolling up her sleeping bag — and hoping that she would never have to see one again — she stood up, letting out a little sigh when she remembered that she was still wearing her dress from the day before. It was far from a cheap dress but she was pretty certain that it was now ruined. Not that she would ever want to wear it again. Perhaps it would be a good excuse to go shopping when she was finally back in civilization.
The idea of shopping perked the teenager up and she began to stroll back to the coven house, feeling immensely glad to be leaving the dark and dreary woods behind. Blades of grass, dampened with the fresh morning dew, brushed against her legs as she approached the porch. As she drew nearer, Summers' eyes glanced over to where she could hear the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the sweet smell of freshly made pancakes and maple syrup drifting over and causing her stomach to rumble in a disgruntled reminder of how long she had now gone without food. Normally, her mother would insist on Summer keeping to her strict diet and exercise regime, which usually involved eating something either incredibly bland or incredibly nutritious. But she was also many miles away now and as the hunger pulled at her, a small self-satisfied smile momentarily graced Summers features.
Screw her mother.She was practically ravenous by this point and if she wanted to have pancakes, then she would. Summer, overcome with an uncharacteristic wave of giddy excitement, darted into the kitchen. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had pancakes. It had definitely been months, if not at least a couple of years. Thankfully the kitchen was quieter than it had been earlier but that didn’t mean that there still wasn’t someone standing in the way. God, who would enjoy living like this?
“Excuse me, if you'd move, I’d like to eat breakfast before the winter solstice.” Summer rolled her eyes as she pushed past a couple of witches who were embroiled in a rather intense conversation and who were rather unconveniently blocking the path to the plates stacked high with pancakes. After finding somewhere quiet to eat, a quiet alcove tucked away behind one of the staircases, she had set to consuming her food with the eagerness of someone who had been starved of any real pleasure or delight from eating. The sudden surge of sugar whizzed through her, giving her an intoxicating rush of energy and releasing some of the tension she still felt from the chaos last night. Summer was trying her best not to think about that mess. Infact, she’d rather just pretend that a certain dimwitted witch didn’t exist. Even if it wasn’t true, it still calmed her enough to be able to carry on with her day.
Once she had finished, Summer dropped her plate back into the kitchen (where it was being washed by a floating cloth), before heading upstairs. She desperately wanted to change out of these clothes. It made her skin crawl to think about how unclean she was and how she must look to the others. The witch had briefly looked at the room allocations earlier — she had no idea who the hell Isolde was, and she’d barely ever said more than a few cursory words to Rowan — but at least she wasn’t being forced to bunk with Dakota. Thank god. So, after dumping her suitcase in her room, and making sure that she
definitely had the single bed, she hopped into the shower.
Summer didn’t know how long she had spent in there, far too long likely, but when she stepped out she felt herself once again. No longer did she looked like she’d been dragged backwards through several bushes and she smelt instead like a delicate blend of strawberry and mint. After getting changed,
Summer wandered down the corridor. The witch really hated being alone, it was tolerable for short periods of time, but after a while she began to grow bored. So when she saw Maggie pottering about her room, she was unable to resist the temptation to stroll in, acting as if it were her very own.
“Shouldn’t you be downstairs with the others?” She pointed out as she took a seat on one of the beds, crossing her legs over one another, before focusing her gaze pointedly on Maggie.
“Kinda boring to sit by yourself.” Summers hands came up to braid her damp hair as she waited for a reply, fingers moving with a well practiced ease. It would take longer to dry this way but at least it would keep it out of her face.
@Melissa
“Time to get up sleepy-head!”
At the cheery words of Sister Lark, nothing but a languid groan was offered in response from the tangled mess of polyester, limbs and curly hair that was Caleb Bishop. Hands reached up to pull at the edge of the sleeping bag, moving it to try and cover his face in a desperate attempt to shield himself from the bright pools of light that were shining down through the canopy of trees.
“Just, two more hours...maybe three...” Came the eventually grumbled reply, his voice a dry croak in his barely wakened state. Trying to get this particular witch up at a reasonable hour was all but unheard of and often required more hands than Sister Lark currently had on her. It was a joke amongst his family that he was so stubborn to wake sometimes, that he could probably pass for one of the undead.
“Caleb, don’t make me—” Before Lark could finish her sentence, Caleb had lazily waved his hand, the zipper on the sleeping bag moving of its own accord and wrapping him even more snuggly in its warmth. This seemed to displease the elder, who with a frown and a swish of her own hand, slid the polyester cocoon deftly from the teenagers body. Caleb was not one to give up easily though and his arms and legs came to wrap around it before it could be taken fully from him, a small pout flashing over his features.
“Five more minutes?” He suggested, having quickly gone down from his earlier ideal of three.
“There’s pancakes.” Came the elders weary sigh. He was the last of the newly-initiated witches left in the small clearing and the only one who seemed insistent on sleeping the morning away. Faint voices could be heard coming from the area around the coven house but otherwise it was just the peaceful sounds of leaves rustling and birds singing that surrounded them.
“...Pancakes?” Caleb stopped his wrestling match with the jumbled tangle of material, letting the sleeping bag slide from his grip as his soft brown eyes widened at the mention of one of his favourite ever breakfast foods. Well, to be honest, any food was his favourite food. But pancakes were pretty damn awesome. His mom sometimes made them for brinner, which was always the best.
“Is there maple syrup? Are they chocolate chip? Oh! Are there waffles too?” Scrambling up from his spot on the floor, a smile lit up his face at the endless food possibilities. His desire to sleep was instantly forgotten and instead Caleb begun to trot off in the direction of the coven house, offering Sister Lark a small wave as he departed.
“Thanks Lark! See ya later!” Even in the witchs grumpier moments, which were far and few between anyway, he always had a way of turning it around in the end. It was both endearing and endlessly frustrating at the same time.
Practically running towards the house in his eagerness, he gave a quick cursory look at the noticeboard that a few others were still crowded around (he had no idea who his roommates were but he was sure they’d be great) before moving into the kitchen.
“Morning.” He greeted those who were in the room, cupping a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn. Still donning the dark grey sweatpants and black t-shirt he’d chosen as his sleeping attire for the night before, he grabbed a plate, piling it high with food before nudging his head towards a cup of coffee. The ceramic cup floated off the counter, following behind him like a dutiful pet as he picked up one of the pancakes, folding it like a taco before taking an enthusiastically large bite.
As the teen left the kitchen, he was abruptly greeted by a familiar presence circling around his legs as he walked. The Savannah Cat moved deftly so not as to trip him up, a gentle but deep purr emitting from within her chest.
“Oh, there you are!” He grinned as the pair continued to move in a sort of seamless synchrony. Bast often liked to wander off to do her own thing, which Caleb was totally chill with, but it still made him happy when she came back to check up on him.
“These flapjacks are great, you gotta try one Bast—” He begun to chatter as he continued to look down at the feline. His words however, were cut short when he suddenly walked into a shorter someone with a small
oof. Somehow he managed to keep hold of his plate, though the pancakes wobbled precariously for a couple of seconds as his body collided into that of Calypsos.
Taking a step back, he looked her briefly up and down, making sure she was okay.
“Aw shit! Sorry about that! Are you alright?” He laughed awkwardly, free hand coming up to run through his curly locks of brown hair.
"Man, I’m an idiot..." Shaking his head, his gaze passed over the three girls, a grin spreading across his features when he realised he recognised them all.
“Oh, you’re the other initiates right? I’m Caleb! You can call me whatever you like though, I’m not fussed.” Caleb continued to smile as he moved to lean against the wall, Bast sitting on the ground next to him, her large eyes keenly watching the witches.
“Damn, I’m glad I ran into you guys. I hate eating breakfast alone.” The teen added, reaching out a hand to grab the cup that was now floating next to him and sipping contentedly on its contents.
@canaryrose @Hitman @Qia
