Fall had only begun to settle over the grounds of Hogwarts but by god the lake was already quite cold, even oddly cold, Silas thought. He’d donned canvas waders over his tweed pants and half of his camel hair colored barn jacket before leaving his cottage and heading down to the lake to investigate something he’d overheard one of the student’s talking about not much earlier that morning.
“What are you lookin’ at?” Silas skipped a stone towards a skeptical looking merman that had popped his head above water and assumed a rather mocking attitude while watching Silas try and sort out his predicament.
The creature disappeared back underneath of the dark waves of the lake before the stone made contact and Silas couldn’t help the smug smile that spread across his face. Nonetheless, he was still no closer to sorting out his problem.
It was not a very attractive sight upon approach; the entire cove was filled with the floating carcasses of dead fish. At least seventy by Silas’s closest count and it smelled like twice as many.
He looked around and it was obvious what happened, what was not obvious was why. The entire cove was cut off by downed trees, shrubs, stumps, sticks…anything that could create a dam. Cutting this area off from the fresh water supply the fish used up their oxygen and died.
Why though? Silas thought to himself.
Could it be Centaurs?
He wondered while surveying the area, suddenly a bit paranoid about being alone on one of the lesser frequented coves of the lake. Then, somewhere not too far away a twig snapped. Silas focused in on the direction of the sound.
“Who’s there?” he called out into what remained of the chilly morning fog, the last remnants of what had yet to burn off in the early sun.
Cautiously, he waited for an answer…
Lydia Lockhart
“What are you lookin’ at?” Silas skipped a stone towards a skeptical looking merman that had popped his head above water and assumed a rather mocking attitude while watching Silas try and sort out his predicament.
The creature disappeared back underneath of the dark waves of the lake before the stone made contact and Silas couldn’t help the smug smile that spread across his face. Nonetheless, he was still no closer to sorting out his problem.
It was not a very attractive sight upon approach; the entire cove was filled with the floating carcasses of dead fish. At least seventy by Silas’s closest count and it smelled like twice as many.
He looked around and it was obvious what happened, what was not obvious was why. The entire cove was cut off by downed trees, shrubs, stumps, sticks…anything that could create a dam. Cutting this area off from the fresh water supply the fish used up their oxygen and died.
Why though? Silas thought to himself.
Could it be Centaurs?
He wondered while surveying the area, suddenly a bit paranoid about being alone on one of the lesser frequented coves of the lake. Then, somewhere not too far away a twig snapped. Silas focused in on the direction of the sound.
“Who’s there?” he called out into what remained of the chilly morning fog, the last remnants of what had yet to burn off in the early sun.
Cautiously, he waited for an answer…
Lydia Lockhart