Okay, yes, Skip might've been taken to a random hell dimension back on Halloween, but that was him. Well, him and Scarlett. And a bunch of upperclassmen. Point was, it wasn't a saxophone playing nerd who had disappeared, so this was Much Worse.
"I've got a pocket knife," he offered up to Hawthorne's suggestion. "And we can always transfigure sticks into weapons if we need to." Careful planning wasn't really his forte exactly. "What're we thinking, check some of the places people have already gotten stuck this year, or try somewheres new?"
"No weapons!" Willow insists, and her voice doesn't come out demanding like she had hoped, but instead it's squeaky. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all this. We don't need to turn into a mob yet." Even she can admit there's a yet. "The dream... I dreamed... Trees! There were trees, right, so, maybe we should look places with trees?"
"The mind is a weapon!" Cicero interjects, and by mind he probably means his wand, which he deftly spins in his bony fingers. "The last place people got lost was up the tower, but there wouldn't be such a panic if it were merely a case of a few students being in the main building after hours. No! Clearly they're somewhere more difficulttotrackandweneedtoreadbetweenthelinesifwewanttolocatethem!"
He points towards the trees. Willow was right. He's dreamed of trees. And then there was the dread, thick and inky, making his mouth feel dry. "Willow's right. Let's search where no one else would."
Hawthorne looks a little put out by the no weapons rule, but it doesn't stop him from considering their objective. He satisfies his need for offensive tools by picking up one of Cedar's fallen rubber bands and wrapping it around his fingers into a ready-to-shoot gun, chewing the inside of his mouth, pondering. What place would no one else search? After a few seconds and a lot of very thoughtful expressions, he suggests, "The old stable remains by the Astronomy Silo?"
"Makes sense. Middle of the woods, plenty of loud bugs, creepy aesthetic. If I were going to kidnap random high schoolers, an old stable would definitely make my list of places to hold them hostage," Skip muses. He grabs a few rubber bands for himself, just in case, and then starts walking in that direction. Not quite running, but definitely at a good clip. He’s better with the action than the talky-talk, even if he winds up eating a few leaves.
SOPHOMORE RESCUE MISSION
"We should bring weapons," he suggests, and then pauses, "In addition to wands."
SOPHOMORE RESCUE MISSION
"I've got a pocket knife," he offered up to Hawthorne's suggestion. "And we can always transfigure sticks into weapons if we need to." Careful planning wasn't really his forte exactly. "What're we thinking, check some of the places people have already gotten stuck this year, or try somewheres new?"
SOPHOMORE RESCUE MISSION
SOPHOMORE RESCUE MISSION
He points towards the trees. Willow was right. He's dreamed of trees. And then there was the dread, thick and inky, making his mouth feel dry. "Willow's right. Let's search where no one else would."
SOPHOMORE RESCUE MISSION
SOPHOMORE RESCUE MISSION
SOPHOMORE RESCUE MISSION