The first thought Dorian has is to wonder why anyone would create such a horrible doll.
He can't look away, paralysed, disgusted. Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone make up a model of Adela, and such a perfect imitation, too, Dorian can see, the right hair, the right eyes. Why then force those eyes into an expression of pained, dead horror? Why mutilate that pretty face, mar that neck so gruesomely? The only thing he can give them credit for is the blood on the white dress, but the pretty simplicity of it is destroyed by the garishness of it all. It is a hideous work of art, and he doesn't understand it.
Oh. And the horses are gone. Adela must have left with them.
"We should go," Dorian says as he reaches for Hermione's hand. "Apparate us out of here."
There is a sound in the air—Dorian recognizes it from the practice yard—something is lodged in Hermione's shoulder. Something wooden, round and thin. Feathers at the end of it.
Dorian draws his sword and steps between Hermione and wherever the arrow came from, not letting go of Hermione's hand—she has to get them out of here.
no subject
He can't look away, paralysed, disgusted. Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone make up a model of Adela, and such a perfect imitation, too, Dorian can see, the right hair, the right eyes. Why then force those eyes into an expression of pained, dead horror? Why mutilate that pretty face, mar that neck so gruesomely? The only thing he can give them credit for is the blood on the white dress, but the pretty simplicity of it is destroyed by the garishness of it all. It is a hideous work of art, and he doesn't understand it.
Oh. And the horses are gone. Adela must have left with them.
"We should go," Dorian says as he reaches for Hermione's hand. "Apparate us out of here."
There is a sound in the air—Dorian recognizes it from the practice yard—something is lodged in Hermione's shoulder. Something wooden, round and thin. Feathers at the end of it.
Dorian draws his sword and steps between Hermione and wherever the arrow came from, not letting go of Hermione's hand—she has to get them out of here.