<div class="floatleft">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Beauxbatons%20Academy/emilie_zps977a0893.jpg)</div><strong>Character Name (PC/NPC):</strong>Emilie Callahan (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=193964.msg9475925#msg9475925)<br/><strong>Year/House:</strong>1st Year<br/><strong>Relationship Status:</strong>Single<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Well-loved Travel attire and messenger bag. (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=110834464)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Bern Carriage<br/><strong>Date:</strong>September 1st<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Afanassii Abezi'ana<br/><br/><hr/><br/>"Jumped the<em>gun</em>, actually. But you were very close. Bullet and Gun generally being linked with one another, after all." Emilie corrected him, but not in a condescending manner, rather the response flowed of it's own accord, perhaps subtly implying that more studious discussions were her forte.<br/>"Afanassii. That is a very lovely name. Not french though, I take it? No, no, sounds more... German? Russian, maybe?" Scrunching up her nose a bit in thought, Emilie ran through various dialects in her head. She wasn't exactly fluent in anything other than French, English and conversational Gaelic, but that hadn't stopped her from having a broad idea of most language origins. Studying the culture of the spoken word was an interesting enough pastime for a girl with no proper friends of her own.<br/><br/>Speaking of friends, "Ah, yes. Yes. Becoming friends would be nice, sure. I'd like that." Emilie readily agreed although she didn't exactly appear to be taking his word for it. Her track record didn't speak well of such attempts and try as she might she couldn't bring herself to believe that this school year would be any different. How many times had she tried to keep a friendship only to be forgotten, ignored, dismissed or otherwise discarded? Some things were simply not meant to be. Still, she'd promised her Uncle she'd give it another go and here she was. At least if it all went up in flames she could truthfully say she'd tried.<br/><br/>"I like your cat." Emilie announced, hoping for all the world that her words didn't sound as stupid aloud as they did in her head. A small, displeased cawwing sound drew a quiet laugh forth from Emilie, "Don't worry, Poe. I still like you best." She reassured the tiny bird who settled into silence once more.<br/><br/>When Afanassii slid into the seat beside Emilie she instinctively slid aside to make room. She realized all too late that she might appear apprehensive because of such actions and wondered if perhaps that too was the case. If anything, she needed to stop second guessing her every thought and action, she got the feeling that it was doing her more harm than good.<br/><br/>"He doesn't talk. I mean, I don't<em>think</em>he does. Truthfully I've only had him a month or so. He's still a baby, my uncle bought him for me at a magic-run shop in France, If he speaks, he hasn't said anything to me thus far..." Pausing a moment, she added, "Though he appears to make his intent known by cawing, from what I can tell. Uhm, Have you ever owned any birds, Nassi?" She asked, trying out the nickname and immediately deciding against it. For some reason it made her feel like she was being too informal. She wondered if it would upset him if she never used it again. Maybe she should use it for his sake? Maybe she was over-reacting? People were so complex!<br/>Somewhere in the midst of all that thought, she also began wondering if she should take Poe out of his cage to let Afanassii pet him, and hoping that Poe wouldn't bite if she tried.<br/><br/>Tacking on after a moment as if it were an absentminded afterthought, she said, "And for the record, you didn't bother me."