The air was frigid and snow now littered the mountains Ilvermorny rested upon, and while it was cold to step outside, to Morrigan, it was also very refreshing; a bit freeing, even. It made her feel good to escape the castle for a few minutes, picking up snow and ice in her bare hands until they were numb, breathing and her breath being visible in the air. Some despised the cold, though since she was from Colorado, she was beyond used to the cold, and it rarely phased her. She was used to having to trudge in the snow, having to spend many minutes trying to warm herself from the numbness her body felt. She had a strange sensation when the icy wind was against her bare skin, one which wasn't thinking that her fingers would fall off from frostbite, but one of exhilaration, a strange comfort and warmth against the cold.
The fifteen-year-old ( almost sixteen, she would be in February, though she still had another month ) had spent quite some time outdoors today, layered up so she wouldn't have to make a visit to the Hospital Wing due to frostbite, since she could only predict how much that would worry the kind nurse who worked there. Morrigan just sat by the lake, breathing in the cool air and letting snow fall on top of her hair until she was too cold and had to come back inside. She returned to the Thunderbird common room after, drinking some hot chocolate ( a common drink in the common rooms during the winter, and a rather delicious one, too ) and sitting by the fire, peeling off her wet socks and putting on warm ones to spread some warmth to her toes. However, during this situation of going outdoors and enjoying herself, she was also successfully procrastinating on her homework, and there was plenty of it which needed to be completed.
The brunette gathered her books and other supplies, and made her way down to the library, the one place she could really focus. Her common room was good, though it brought plenty of distractions, all which she didn't need when she was pressed for time like she was now. In the library, she was practically forced to be solitary ( or at least try to ) so it could benefit her. She sat down at a table in the corner of the library, books surrounding her, and got out her own materials, getting right to work. Though only a few minutes later, she looked up to see that someone else was there, oh yes, another student in her year, though in Wampus. What was their name? Oh, it was something original, a little peculiar ( though was she one to judge with her own name being Morrigan ), though lovely - oh yes, Aofie. She smiled up at the other girl, "Oh, hello!" she exclaimed, "I'm Morrigan, in your year, Thunderbird. I have some last minute cramming to do, though I suppose I can spare a moment or two to talk."
Winter had always been Aoife’s favorite season. Though she herself was constantly cold, it was never a sense of numbness. Rather, she appreciated the feeling of biting wind and icy snow. It reminded her that she was alive; a welcome contrast to the off days she had. On those days, not even her medications could make getting out of bed any easier. On those days, she needed to lay in the blanket of white until all she felt was pain and wet. On those days, Aoife was like a shadow. On those days, she rarely turned up to class, though she eventually got together the motivation to do her homework. On those days, she spent most of her time not outside in the library.
Today was one of those days.
Though she had changed into a warm, dry uniform, the ravenette was still more chilled than normal. This gave her snowy pale skin an icy feel, should anyone be close enough to her to be allowed to reach out and touch her. The damp, dripping ends of her ragged black hair were the cause of this, not that she minded. Though her uniform hid most of the evidence, she was looking thinner than usual, as she had been having trouble eating of late. It didn’t bother her too much, mostly because she would slip down to the kitchens every so often, and because she kept a thermos of piping hot tea with her to keep herself alert and from fainting. It wasn’t the most perfect system, and had often gotten her detentions in the past until the staff realized that this as just what she needed to function at times, but at the very least it kept anything worse at bay.
The library, when Aoife finally slipped inside after the lunch period she hadn’t attended, was quiet and welcoming as always. However, the fifteen-year-old Wampus found her usual table – more or less secluded, but with the pale light from the nearby window keeping it from feeling isolated – already boasted an occupant. For a moment, the half-Irish girl hung back in a shadow of a bookcase. She wanted to study the other woman, to see what she knew about the brunette, before approaching any further. Call it paranoia, but Aoife liked to be as prepared as possible for any situation she found herself in. Even if that situation was as simple as speaking to another student.
From what she could remember, the other fifth year was in Thunderbird. Her name was Morrigan Greene, if memory also served, and the usually inexpressive teen smirked a tiny bit. Someone else with Irish roots; what an interesting find. Shaking her head to clear it, and wiping her expression clean, Aoife slid her cold hands into the warm pockets of her uniform pants, and approached the shorter girl. (Since she stood at 5’10”, most other girls were shorter than she was, not that it bothered her too much.) When she neared the table, Morrigan glanced up at her, grinned and began talking. Well, it seemed that Aoife’s memory had served her well; she had been right about this girl’s age, House, and name.
Shaking her head, the taller teen responded, her voice pitched just low enough to cast doubt on her gender. “Nuthin’ t’ worry aou’, lass.” Her accent might have been surprising, but it was what she had grown up hearing – as much as her father Glorified Sperm Donor despised the Irish, he had employed a good number of them for her servants and house staff – and what she had been immersed in, once she had moved to America with her grandfather, Father Liam McCoy. “’Tis jus’ this is usually me table.” Pausing for a moment, the Irish girl continued, introducing herself. “Name's Aoife McCoy, Wampus. Pleasure t’ meet ye, lass.”
Removing one of her boney hands from her pocket, Aoife extended it to Maorrigan in greeting.
The other student, who she presumed was girl by her appearance, voice seemed to be low, though not low enough to be male, though not quite high enough to be female. Really, the other student seemed female, though she wasn't completely sure; though maybe she was non-binary, or possibly genderfluid. "If you don't mind me asking, what pronouns would you like me to use whenever I refer to you?" Morrigan asked politely. She lived in an age where that wasn't uncommon, and she wanted to make sure she was being aware, conscious of the wants of others.
Her accent seemed vaguely Irish, and she rarely met people with actual Irish accents, she typically just saw them on television or something. She liked the accent, though, it sounded nice. Morrigan slightly looked down, but then perked her head back up, a little embarrassed that she took this other student's table without asking, "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize this table was yours," she said. "I can get up if you'd like, I mean, there are plenty of other tables I could move to." she said, getting up a little nervously, though not in a scared way, no, it was odd, but she just rose and kind of began to scurry, to get away in case she wasn't supposed to be there, and because she felt a little guilty.
Though the other student began talk, so she went still, just standing. Aofie McCoy. She recognized the name, yes, she was definitely in her year, though they just hadn't talked much. Ilvermorny was a big school since many were wizards in America, and she had only met a fraction of those in her year, really, though she wished she was able to meet more. "It's a pleasure to meet you, too!" Morrigan replied with a smile, shaking the fellow student's hand, then sitting back down, waiting to see if Aofie would, too. "So, how have you been doing? It's a shame we haven't met earlier, though late is better than never, I suppose. Are you prepared for the test in History of Magic tomorrow, or do you even have that class tomorrow?"
