June 7th, 1895 - Padmore Park

Mo had been tasked with walking Orla today. She could have just done it around the neighborhood, but had swindled one of the maids into taking her to the park for a longer walk and she'd felt bad dragging anyone with her. The park's closing hadn't really impacted her life too much, as she'd been gone to Hogwarts for the most of it, but she was relieved that it was open again. Their gardens and the grounds of the estate were pretty large and they had plenty of room to roam, but Mo had always liked the lake and was fascinated by the fact that on the far side was one of her new favorite places. She sort of missed it already. But having Kaat stay with them was bringing a little bit of Hogwarts home. Of course it was nice to have Stella around more now that they were back in their room together. That comfort would never fade. Mo was a little torn between figuring out how to split her time between them, but it would be alright.

Luckily for Mo, even though her Irish wolf hound dwarfed her both in size and weight, she was gentle and good on a lead. Still, she could pull when she got excited and she saw something to skirting past, a ball maybe? And that was all it had taken for Orla to give chase, Mo barely keeping up, running at full speed behind her dog.

"Watch out!" She called to the boy ahead of them, Orla's apparent destination and the source of the lure tugging at the hound. Mo could hear the maid screeching behind her, but there wasn't much Mo could do until Orla decided to stop.

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Lysander Echelon

  

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Lysander spent a lot of time in Padmore Park when it as cloudy; he didn't do particularly well in the sun, because his skin was so pale, but he liked the outdoors. He was playing with a rubber ball, and mostly left to his own devices — his governess had gone out with him, but she was reading on a bench.

He heard a shout and screeching behind him, and then a very large dog collided heavily with his legs. Lysander wavered on his feet, tried to keep himself straight, and then — toppled onto his bum on the pathway.

  

This wasn't going to end well. Orla knocked the poor boy right down and the abrupt halt caused her to go tumbling down, still holding on the wolfhound's leash as she stopped to grab the ball the boy had playing with. Mo couldn't stop quite as easily as the dog and so she went skirts overhead as she tripped over the boy's legs, an ungraceful somersault the result.

"Woo, that was... exciting." She shook herself, feeling around for a minute to see if she'd hurt herself, but other than some dirt, found she was in a whole piece. "I am terribly sorry, are you alright?" Orla, the beast, had taken the ball and was now laying in the grass chewing on it. Mo was going to owe the poor boy a new ball.

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Lysander gaped, bum and hands still on the path in Padmore Park, at the girl who had tumbled over his legs — probably bruising them — and at the frankly huge dog. "I think I'm alright," Lys said, wiping his palms against each other to get some of the dirt off. "That's a dog?"

It had to be a dog, and it was going to town on his ball — slobbering all over it, really.

  

"Yah, she's a bit of a brute." Mo loved Orla dearly, but she was huge and she was clumsy and she did often try to get what she wanted and stopped listening to commands.

Standing, still holding on to Orla's lead, Mo dusted herself off. "This is Orla, I'm Mo. She's an Irish wolfhound." She reached down to scratch between Orla's ears fondly. "And I owe you a new ball, I'm very sorry." She grimaced.

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"I'm Lysander," he answered, pleased that they were doing first names. He pushed himself onto his feet and brushed some of the dirt and dust off of himself. His governess had caught up with Mo's maid, and was now talking to her, but had not made any move to retrieve him. Lysander knew enough to know that she sometimes worried about his shyness with other children, which meant that she was likely doing this on purpose.

"It's alright," he said, "Can I pet her? Orla? We don't have a dog."

  

"It's nice to meet you, even if we knocked you over." Mo was used to it, Orla was usually pretty gentle, but when she was excited, she forgot how big she was.

"Sure, she loves attention." Mo chuckled. "And belly rubs." She might be too busy with the ball at the moment, but Mo had rarely ever seen Orla turn down a good scratch. "Do you live here in town?" Mo hadn't seen him before that she remembered, but she also had been at Hogwarts for the last year, as well.

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Lysander ruffled the fur along the dog's shoulder blades, grinning at her. He wished that he had a dog at Uncle August's — or a cat. But he'd already decided that an owl would be the best pet to get for his first year at Hogwarts, so that he could send letters.

"I live in Wellingtonshire with my uncle," Lysander answered. "Do you live here?"