8th June, 1889 — Podmore Zoo, Irvingly
Amelia Evans
It was a little known fact about Konstantin Fisk that, on a sunny weekend, he loved nothing more than getting out of Bartonburg for the fresher air of Irvingly with his beagle in tow. The fact that his family seldom came to the smaller village had a considerable amount to do with it, as did the reduced possibility of bumping into work colleagues out of hours. Ambitious he might be, but a glutton for punishment he was not and he could only stomach the intrigue of office politics for so many days of the week.
The market was particularly busy this week – a shame, he rather fancied sampling some of the early summer chutneys – but the zoo was ideal, even if the cacophony of sound was making Brian’s ears twitch. To him it was soothing, more a hum, but incessant tugging on the lead in his hand grew more insistent with each new paddock they passed until finally Brian took him by surprise and pulled free, fleeing towards the nearest bushes.
“Bugger,” he muttered to himself as he took off after him. His athleticism was definitely questionable after years of desk work but Kons kept him in sight as best he could, jumping over a fence with considerably less grace than his dog had.
Where on earth was he?
From behind an oak that must have been as old as Hogwarts itself Konstantin heard increasingly agitated barks and hurriedly followed the sound, finding his beagle sat on the chest of a young woman. He stared, eyes wide, utterly uselessly.