"From...Boston...?" Adrian said, confused why that was a question and also trying to navigate the airport without looking like it was the first time he'd ever been in one (even though it was). But the next step was the riskiest part of their entire journey. Even deep inside their hidden forest, all witches had heard the chilling tales of lost luggage. Adrian followed Yelena to baggage claim with growing dread, but his fears turned out to be for nothing. Since he'd taken so long to get off the plane and then had the meeting, his luggage was waiting for him on the carousel when he arrived: an ancient-looking black steamer trunk with wheels screwed into the bottom, a metal security briefcase with a nasty curse etched into the locks, and, most importantly, his broom.
Despite the humans crowding all around him, he couldn't help a sigh of relief as his fingers curled around the smooth, familiar wood. Even by his high standards, the broom was a work of art: an arrow-straight piece of lightning-struck oak with a raven carved into the top of the handle and a fine cone of broom grass bound to the bottom. It was also extremely angry with him.
"I'm sorry," the witch whispered at the fury pouring into him through the carved wood, trying not to let anyone overhear him. "You were too big for the overhead bins. I had to check you." The broom's anger intensified as the image of a crowded, depressurized cargo hold forced its way into Adrian's mind. The baggage handlers had thrown the broom in there like so much trash! It had nearly been crushed!
"Stop being dramatic," he scolded softly, pulling a leather carrying strap out of one of his spelled pockets and threading the broom's handle through the loops at the ends. "You were crafted by the Witch of the Bones herself. Surely you can take a bit of rough handling."
The broom responded with a stab of ire so intense, he had to check his palm to make sure he wasn't bleeding. Rather than responding further - Bran was clearly in a mood and was just going to have to work through it on its own - he slid the strap over his shoulders to secure the broom to his back, then retrieved his pointed hat from where he'd stowed it under his arm and placed it purposefully on his head. This plus the black coat and the broom drew some strange looks, but the witch didn't spare them a glance. He simply grabbed his wheeled trunk and secured the metal briefcase atop it. When he was sure the luggage stack wouldn't topple over, he picked up Boston's carrier as carefully as he could and returned to Yelena. "This is everything," he said.
no subject
Despite the humans crowding all around him, he couldn't help a sigh of relief as his fingers curled around the smooth, familiar wood. Even by his high standards, the broom was a work of art: an arrow-straight piece of lightning-struck oak with a raven carved into the top of the handle and a fine cone of broom grass bound to the bottom. It was also extremely angry with him.
"I'm sorry," the witch whispered at the fury pouring into him through the carved wood, trying not to let anyone overhear him. "You were too big for the overhead bins. I had to check you." The broom's anger intensified as the image of a crowded, depressurized cargo hold forced its way into Adrian's mind. The baggage handlers had thrown the broom in there like so much trash! It had nearly been crushed!
"Stop being dramatic," he scolded softly, pulling a leather carrying strap out of one of his spelled pockets and threading the broom's handle through the loops at the ends. "You were crafted by the Witch of the Bones herself. Surely you can take a bit of rough handling."
The broom responded with a stab of ire so intense, he had to check his palm to make sure he wasn't bleeding. Rather than responding further - Bran was clearly in a mood and was just going to have to work through it on its own - he slid the strap over his shoulders to secure the broom to his back, then retrieved his pointed hat from where he'd stowed it under his arm and placed it purposefully on his head. This plus the black coat and the broom drew some strange looks, but the witch didn't spare them a glance. He simply grabbed his wheeled trunk and secured the metal briefcase atop it. When he was sure the luggage stack wouldn't topple over, he picked up Boston's carrier as carefully as he could and returned to Yelena. "This is everything," he said.