Drabble: Sirius is Late
Title: Sirius is Late
Author: seren_canis
Rating: G
Word Count: 356
Summary: Sirius is late.
Author's Notes A drabble written for a rp application, I was quite proud of this so decided to post :). I just luuurve writing things from Padfoot's POV! Enjoy!
“Shit,” mutters Sirius, looking at his watch, then up at the sky.
He lets his hand fall to his side, weighed down by the ornate heirloom watch, and begins to walk. The sky overhead is tinted fuchsia pink, and his footsteps echo on the wet, wide cement as he breaks into a run. He runs until the cement is replaced by warm grass, and his frantic footfalls turn into a soft thump thump thump. Guarded and hidden out of sight by the tall trees, Sirius checks over his shoulders before allowing his body to shimmer and shift. Without breaking his stride, his world turns black and white, and his strong canine legs propel him forward through Green Park.
His world is suddenly not measured in sights and sounds, but scent. He can smell them on the wind; the green sting of the tree sap, the earthy woodchips, the rabbit that ran through here only minutes before, and the border collie that marked his scent on the large Oak tree hours ago.
Padfoot continues to run, the world solid beneath his heavy feet. He cannot see the now darkening sky overhead, but a sense of urgency propels him nonetheless. Sirius is hardly ever Padfoot alone, and a part of his canine brain whines at him... where’s packmate? ...but he shakes these thoughts away. He even somehow manages to quench the powerful, primal desire to run after rabbit.
Eventually Padfoot reaches the other side of the park, and under the watchful eyes of the trees, shimmers back into Sirius. This time he isn’t so smooth, and stumbles over his feet with an enraged “shit!” before starting up running again. He ruffles his hair in the wind, James-style, and pulls his jacket closer about him.
Finally he sees the house, and trots up the steps to the front door to the Order Of The Phoenix headquarters. Sirius pulls his wand from his pocket and performs the correct enchantments before crossing the threshold. Rehearsing his best butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth grin, he takes a deep breath and opens the parlour door:
“Sorry I’m late everyone,” he says, grinning apologetically, “lost track of time.”
END.
Author: seren_canis
Rating: G
Word Count: 356
Summary: Sirius is late.
Author's Notes A drabble written for a rp application, I was quite proud of this so decided to post :). I just luuurve writing things from Padfoot's POV! Enjoy!
“Shit,” mutters Sirius, looking at his watch, then up at the sky.
He lets his hand fall to his side, weighed down by the ornate heirloom watch, and begins to walk. The sky overhead is tinted fuchsia pink, and his footsteps echo on the wet, wide cement as he breaks into a run. He runs until the cement is replaced by warm grass, and his frantic footfalls turn into a soft thump thump thump. Guarded and hidden out of sight by the tall trees, Sirius checks over his shoulders before allowing his body to shimmer and shift. Without breaking his stride, his world turns black and white, and his strong canine legs propel him forward through Green Park.
His world is suddenly not measured in sights and sounds, but scent. He can smell them on the wind; the green sting of the tree sap, the earthy woodchips, the rabbit that ran through here only minutes before, and the border collie that marked his scent on the large Oak tree hours ago.
Padfoot continues to run, the world solid beneath his heavy feet. He cannot see the now darkening sky overhead, but a sense of urgency propels him nonetheless. Sirius is hardly ever Padfoot alone, and a part of his canine brain whines at him... where’s packmate? ...but he shakes these thoughts away. He even somehow manages to quench the powerful, primal desire to run after rabbit.
Eventually Padfoot reaches the other side of the park, and under the watchful eyes of the trees, shimmers back into Sirius. This time he isn’t so smooth, and stumbles over his feet with an enraged “shit!” before starting up running again. He ruffles his hair in the wind, James-style, and pulls his jacket closer about him.
Finally he sees the house, and trots up the steps to the front door to the Order Of The Phoenix headquarters. Sirius pulls his wand from his pocket and performs the correct enchantments before crossing the threshold. Rehearsing his best butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth grin, he takes a deep breath and opens the parlour door:
“Sorry I’m late everyone,” he says, grinning apologetically, “lost track of time.”
END.