Who: Angelina Johnson and a most unwelcome guest What: Jogging and an unpleasant surprise Where: By the lake When: Saturday, late afternoon Rating: Possibly high - especially for language
Angelina had been miserable lately. She had been dumped, the one man she truly loved was not only dead, but now a ghost, she was still stuck in Quarantine and missing the entire season of Quidditch, and she lost her magic. She hated everything, and really, everyone. She just wanted to be left alone to stew in her own misery, and for the most part she had managed that. Between her nights with the bottle, and her days of doing nothing more than working out, making sure her body was in top physical shape for when she was out of this terrible place, her time was mostly full up anyway.
Today was no different, and after waking out of her morning, half-hungover haze, Angelina washed her face, put up her hair, and threw on a pair of leggings, sports bra, and long sleeve t-shirt. It was still cold outside but the exercise would keep her at a comfortable temperature, and without much thought she took off, jogging for she wasn't sure how long before she came upon the lake. It was always a decent view to run, though it was still a bit muddy which was annoying as all hell. Whatever, she could shower when she got back.
Coming upon a particularly muddy area she veered to the left towards the trees to avoid it when suddenly her entire world turned upside down. A sharp pain shot though her ankle and she yelped, realizing quite suddenly she had stepped in some kind of... snare? What in the bloody hell was this?! "Hey, what the fuck!" she screamed, her shirt falling upwards towards her face, covering her eyes for a moment before she pulled it back down, tucking a portion of it into her bottoms. "This isn't funny! Let me go!" she yelled again, looking around to see who's idea of a joke this was.