Charity was a good listener, but she was fairly awful at trying to paint a picture in her head. So there were... three... five... six... seven players on each team—meaning there were fourteen players total—and they flew in circles on a pitch chasing balls in the air. It seemed simple enough, but with the different types of players she imagined it was more difficult than simply chasing the balls (that was probably the chaser's job, she decided).
"Even if I was a fan, I doubt I could go," she said, not too bothered by it. She would like to go, but only because it was an international competition. She'd rarely seen people from outside of Britain expect for the merchants that came from the boats to sell things. Now that she lived in Irvingly, there seemed to be no outsiders at all! "I don't think my Uncle Evander likes quidditch."
She paused, her mouth open in a little circle, upon remembering that she also have Uncle Alfred. He'd never mentioned quidditch or broomsticks, but he would be the person to ask. He liked adventure, and nothing about the idea o an international competition seemed to lack adventure.
"Well," she said sheepishly, "maybe I could. But you must tell me more first. What do I need to know about the game?"
"Even if I was a fan, I doubt I could go," she said, not too bothered by it. She would like to go, but only because it was an international competition. She'd rarely seen people from outside of Britain expect for the merchants that came from the boats to sell things. Now that she lived in Irvingly, there seemed to be no outsiders at all! "I don't think my Uncle Evander likes quidditch."
She paused, her mouth open in a little circle, upon remembering that she also have Uncle Alfred. He'd never mentioned quidditch or broomsticks, but he would be the person to ask. He liked adventure, and nothing about the idea o an international competition seemed to lack adventure.
"Well," she said sheepishly, "maybe I could. But you must tell me more first. What do I need to know about the game?"
