Can't Beat the Horses || Fawna&Brock
It had been a bit of a long shot, but he had heard that the Commons were good for people in need of a home, and taken the strange fireplace transport down to take a look. As it was, however, his pocketful of change that he should really prioritise for food, wasn’t enough for any of the flats. Still, while he left the complex disappointed, Brock wasn’t keen to rush back to London, to the homeless centre he had been crashing in for over a month now. He might not want to stick around for long after learning the magic he needed to learn, but he figured that there was no harm in taking a look around the rest of Puddlemere while he was there.
It was busier than he had expected, once he had walked a little way from the Commons. Everybody was dressed up in a way that put to shame the t-shirt that Brock wore - creased from him having nowhere to hang it after washing it by hand - and his fairly dirty jogging bottoms. A part of him wanted to turn around and run in the opposite direction, before he ended up caught in the middle of whatever the groups of people were gathering for. His curiosity, however, was stronger than that urge, and so he moved past a group of people until he could see where they all seemed to be headed.
Fletwock Farm and Stables said the sign, and underneath was a more temporary hanging, advertising an annual racing event. Brock had no idea what a Granian Winged Horse was, or why so many people seemed so dressed up for them, but he soon stopped wondering about that as his attention was drawn, instead, to a notice about betting. Something stirred inside of him: the same something that he felt whenever he played the slots, and while he knew it was against all logic he had been brought up to believe in, he didn’t seem to be able to stop himself from trusting in the unreliable stakes. And here, judging by the clothes around him, the winnings would surely be greater. His desire to get in and see what was happening grew stronger than any desire he’d had so far since leaving GIFT, but he felt out-of-place and certain that his wish was unobtainable. He looked around, as if inspiration might strike, and in that moment he saw what might just be his lucky penny.
“Fawna?”