"Just a little bit farther, Beaky!"
I have to urge Buckbeak every extra inch of the way. The poor beast is just as exhausted as I am, if not more. It's only exhilarating to feel ones hair in the wind in the beginning. My hair is nearly a greasy as an oil slick. I hate it when my hair is this way! I have to get to a pond or something! Besides needing a bath, I'm starving!
We spot a small village that looks entirely of Muggles. I thank any deity that might be listening and we land in a forest near by. I transfigure quickly enough that Buckbeak doesn't seem to be bothered by it anymore. I nudge at him with my head and he trots deeper into the woods to ferret for food.
I roll around in the dirt and dead leaves to look even scruffier, if that is at all possible. I trot my way down to the cozy looking village. I see many flyers on the ground for a play about a man named Samson. I tilt my head and read it carefully:
TONIGHT ONLY! SEE THE PLAY ABOUT THE MAN THAT CONQUERED NATIONS!
I felt that this was enough to entertain me, as long as I looked cute enough to earn some grub at this show. In the meantime I went to find some homes to panhandle at. The first door I scratched at opened quickly. A young man of about eight-teen looked around, his shaggy-ish dirty blonde hair falling about his face.
"Who's there? Go' way!" He then looked down and saw that it was only a pathetically hungry looking black dog. He broke into a sad smile and left the door open as he went inside. Talking to me apparently, I heard his voice inside the house.
"Poor thing, you look like a good wind will bowl you over. I think I have some scraps around here somewhere. Hey, I'll call you Scraps, how about that?"
He put a plate full of shredded meat and some bread in front of me, then a huge bowl of water. I looked up at him appreciatively.
"Eat up Scraps, before my mother gets home from work. She's not too keen on your sort."
'Don't I know the feeling, kid?' I thought to myself and lapped up the water gratefully and ate just as quickly. I scratched the back of my ear, until the boy did it for me. In a soft and gentle voice he tried to soothe me.
"I'd keep you. Lord knows I need you, but my mother is very strict." He blew some of that straw like hair out of his eyes. "If you could hide maybe during the afternoons during tea when she's actually at home, I'd feed you and things? Is that all right, Scraps?"
I licked his hand; it was good to be adopted every now and then. At least it meant regular meals. He went inside again shortly after and came out with a brush. He slowly started to work on the tangles in my fur. I couldn't help being content and at ease.
'Snap out of it Sirius! You're on the run!' Blast my mind for reminding me. I got up slowly, licked the boys face and trotted away. I assumed he understood because he didn't call after me. As I padded down the main street of the village I noticed more signs for this show 'Samson'. Many people where waiting in front of a neon pink building, which must have been the theater.
Nice way of getting peoples attention I suppose. I got in line with a man, who looked down at me and snorted.
"You like the shows, eh, Blackie?"
How quaint. What an original name. I padded forward in line. I noticed that all the people in line were more than twenty years of age. Not even a mother holding a baby. By passing this thought I poked my head into the theater entrance. Too busy ripping tickets, the usher didn't notice me slip by.
'Easier than a Dementor with allergies!' I thought to myself. I was very pleased with myself. I hid in the back of the theater, in a dark corner and watched all the people sit in their seats.
I'd never been to a theater show in broad daylight, and not nearly all of the seats were taken either. Sporadic amounts of people sat down, and soon there after the lights dimmed. The audience quieted and a man with long black hair stepped out to announce the cast members.
I have to urge Buckbeak every extra inch of the way. The poor beast is just as exhausted as I am, if not more. It's only exhilarating to feel ones hair in the wind in the beginning. My hair is nearly a greasy as an oil slick. I hate it when my hair is this way! I have to get to a pond or something! Besides needing a bath, I'm starving!
We spot a small village that looks entirely of Muggles. I thank any deity that might be listening and we land in a forest near by. I transfigure quickly enough that Buckbeak doesn't seem to be bothered by it anymore. I nudge at him with my head and he trots deeper into the woods to ferret for food.
I roll around in the dirt and dead leaves to look even scruffier, if that is at all possible. I trot my way down to the cozy looking village. I see many flyers on the ground for a play about a man named Samson. I tilt my head and read it carefully:
TONIGHT ONLY! SEE THE PLAY ABOUT THE MAN THAT CONQUERED NATIONS!
I felt that this was enough to entertain me, as long as I looked cute enough to earn some grub at this show. In the meantime I went to find some homes to panhandle at. The first door I scratched at opened quickly. A young man of about eight-teen looked around, his shaggy-ish dirty blonde hair falling about his face.
"Who's there? Go' way!" He then looked down and saw that it was only a pathetically hungry looking black dog. He broke into a sad smile and left the door open as he went inside. Talking to me apparently, I heard his voice inside the house.
"Poor thing, you look like a good wind will bowl you over. I think I have some scraps around here somewhere. Hey, I'll call you Scraps, how about that?"
He put a plate full of shredded meat and some bread in front of me, then a huge bowl of water. I looked up at him appreciatively.
"Eat up Scraps, before my mother gets home from work. She's not too keen on your sort."
'Don't I know the feeling, kid?' I thought to myself and lapped up the water gratefully and ate just as quickly. I scratched the back of my ear, until the boy did it for me. In a soft and gentle voice he tried to soothe me.
"I'd keep you. Lord knows I need you, but my mother is very strict." He blew some of that straw like hair out of his eyes. "If you could hide maybe during the afternoons during tea when she's actually at home, I'd feed you and things? Is that all right, Scraps?"
I licked his hand; it was good to be adopted every now and then. At least it meant regular meals. He went inside again shortly after and came out with a brush. He slowly started to work on the tangles in my fur. I couldn't help being content and at ease.
'Snap out of it Sirius! You're on the run!' Blast my mind for reminding me. I got up slowly, licked the boys face and trotted away. I assumed he understood because he didn't call after me. As I padded down the main street of the village I noticed more signs for this show 'Samson'. Many people where waiting in front of a neon pink building, which must have been the theater.
Nice way of getting peoples attention I suppose. I got in line with a man, who looked down at me and snorted.
"You like the shows, eh, Blackie?"
How quaint. What an original name. I padded forward in line. I noticed that all the people in line were more than twenty years of age. Not even a mother holding a baby. By passing this thought I poked my head into the theater entrance. Too busy ripping tickets, the usher didn't notice me slip by.
'Easier than a Dementor with allergies!' I thought to myself. I was very pleased with myself. I hid in the back of the theater, in a dark corner and watched all the people sit in their seats.
I'd never been to a theater show in broad daylight, and not nearly all of the seats were taken either. Sporadic amounts of people sat down, and soon there after the lights dimmed. The audience quieted and a man with long black hair stepped out to announce the cast members.