Gwenog Jones (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} haveyoumet_) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
"Oh, okay, that makes sense too," she said, nodding along, examining the broom more closely, head tilted. She shrugged at his suggested. "Let's see how the end of the season goes first, but assuming I've not fucked up and got myself another injury." At least her recent injury wasn't causing any problems for her quidditch playing any longer. Her stretching? Yes. Her dancing? Definitely. Her quidditch? Not at all. Although she was avoiding Starfish and Stick if she could help it.
"Thanks," she said, and quickly set the broom to hovering at the right height. It seemed a good level of responsive so far. She swung her leg over the handle and felt the broom adjust to her weight. Double checking her robes weren't in the way (although they were purpose-designed quidditch robes it did still occasionally happen) she smirked at Richard and gave him a slightly exaggerated little finger wave before pushing off. She didn't rise too fast at first, giving her the time to slip her feet onto the irons which was rarely a simple prospect at higher speeds.
However once she was up above the houses, shops, and temporary stalls of all kinds she began to increase her speed. She could definitely tell the difference in the amount of cushioning, but it wasn't problematically low. Carefully she began to fly loops and figure of eights over the village, increasing her speed as she went.