The quidditch players looked more like a bunch of hippogriffs with their heads cut off than athletes. The fog was a creating a game more concerned with chaos than it did order…more so than usual at least. It was collision and body slams and spins outs galore. And that was all due in part to the fog. It was worse in it than Shanley had thought it would be but still, it could have been much worse. Though she could barely see five feet in front of her, she could at least see. That was a plus. Right?

Not really. How the HELL was she supposed to catch the snitch in this? Shanley was trying to stay close to the action so that she at least knew what was going on with the rest of the team but even that didn’t work for her as she was hit in the face with a quaffle and spun out. Shock rocked where she had been hit. Shock and pain. Her face went a bit numb but Shanley shook it out, realized she wasn’t really hurt, just bruised, and she made herself continue searching for that bloody stupid snitch.

Shanley could barely  make out her own teammates. This was ridiculous. Her eyes strained as she tried to see some flash of cold in the elusive weather around her. She barely knew who was scoring what. Someone could have been injured and she would barely know it.

As the game went on with little or no action on Shanley’s part as there would be whole half an hours were she wouldn’t even see anyone, she was beginning to wane in patience but she pressed on. The small breaks they had were more moral boosters than anything. They helped but they were also a reminder of how bleak the situation was.

When Shanley was able to actually see the score she raised a brow, surprised at how close it was. “I’m surprised anyone’s even scored,” she muttered as she scoured the pitch from high overhead the rest of the players.