Truthfully, Angelina didn't notice the man's silence. She was looking down the beach, up the beach, and into the ocean as well. Her hands made their way to her hips, and for once she looked deep in thought. Everything was so much more difficult without magic! At the man's words, Angelina tilted her head to listen. She rose her hand slightly, with a smile on her face. "I can do basic spellwork. Like, levitating things and barely riding a broom. It's like I'm a first year all over again. But I don't reckon it's enough magic to do what I want here. And I was never that good with magic; quidditch has always been my thing. I did decent enough in classes, but nothing spectacular. My hus -- ex-husband was always much better at magic than I."
It was the first time Angelina slipped up. She'd just gotten so used to calling George her 'husband' that it was weird to be stopping. Blinking slowly, Ange took a deep breath and went on.
"If we move the game on land, that's actually called football, or footie. Instead of swimming you run and kick, but you can't use your hands. I just thought it might be more... chaotic? I don't know if that's the word, in the ocean. More exciting. If worst comes to worst, we can probably use anchors for the nets. I'm just not sure how to judge bounds that way." Angelina looked out to the ocean and squinted. It was growing darker, and she figured she would have to give up for the night soon. Maybe it would be time to ask Oliver - or George - for help.
"I'm a bit overwhelmed still," Angelina admitted. This man would have no idea of exactly what she'd been through since being here, but it was a lot.