05-22-2016, 01:35 PM
Sirius gasped at the fresh, free air it felt as though his stomach was swirling, which was a similar feeling when the man of his thirties was turning into a dog. In fact, had someone been watching, they would’ve seen his face flicker into that of a wolfish black canine, at least for a second before the wizard’s form steadied as a man.
The disheveled man looked around, letting his eyes scale the world of light -which was indeed too bright for his eyes, which had grown used to the dark- and he was forced to squeeze them shut. His hands felt around at the edge of the fountain, while he felt his cracking lips and dry tongue longing for a refreshing taste. As though it were his own dog bowl, the wizard plunged his head in, at first it was for drink, which he did not take much of, but after, he splashed his face with the simple cup of his hands, as though expecting to be woken up any time now.
Looking down, Sirius noted his robes were shaggy and worn. The “bath” his face had taken in the Nexus fountain had pulled the dirt from his pores, and now left the man, and his dark beard, glittering clean and sparkling with dew. On the other side of the fountain, Sirius noted a strange boy, who had been apprehended by some muggle authorities, it appeared, though they were unlike any kind he had ever seen before. The wizard heard with his keen ears that they were waiting for back up. Sirius was too weary to feel any source of rebellion in him, much the less act on it in this obscene dream, but his feet took him a few steps, rounding the fountain, and the mage had to double-take the still-abrasive blur on his eyes, for he mistook the teenage boy for someone else, and was now watching he and his reactions very keenly, as well as that of the Storm troopers that had surrounded him.
Sirius acted before he thought of the consequences, for impulse was one thing that came so easy to him, “You there,” he spoke to the lead Storm trooper, or to the boy, it was at first hard to tell, “What do you think you’re doing?”
The disheveled man looked around, letting his eyes scale the world of light -which was indeed too bright for his eyes, which had grown used to the dark- and he was forced to squeeze them shut. His hands felt around at the edge of the fountain, while he felt his cracking lips and dry tongue longing for a refreshing taste. As though it were his own dog bowl, the wizard plunged his head in, at first it was for drink, which he did not take much of, but after, he splashed his face with the simple cup of his hands, as though expecting to be woken up any time now.
Looking down, Sirius noted his robes were shaggy and worn. The “bath” his face had taken in the Nexus fountain had pulled the dirt from his pores, and now left the man, and his dark beard, glittering clean and sparkling with dew. On the other side of the fountain, Sirius noted a strange boy, who had been apprehended by some muggle authorities, it appeared, though they were unlike any kind he had ever seen before. The wizard heard with his keen ears that they were waiting for back up. Sirius was too weary to feel any source of rebellion in him, much the less act on it in this obscene dream, but his feet took him a few steps, rounding the fountain, and the mage had to double-take the still-abrasive blur on his eyes, for he mistook the teenage boy for someone else, and was now watching he and his reactions very keenly, as well as that of the Storm troopers that had surrounded him.
Sirius acted before he thought of the consequences, for impulse was one thing that came so easy to him, “You there,” he spoke to the lead Storm trooper, or to the boy, it was at first hard to tell, “What do you think you’re doing?”