#hermangreenhill

The young lion stalked the field among fellows of his pack. The crack of bats that sent firm balls soaring through the sky. The sweat and kinship and laughter that rang out. Proud and fearless students one and all, in the face of any opposition - Even among their own dorm for practise. 'ere the Midford son could be found in the aftermath of practise, hot and bothered as he sprawled upon the short-shorn grass of the only field upon which treading was applicable; with their own prefects permission of course { G R A N T E D } though he was absent, here or there Edward knew not though he could rest easy in the knowledge that he'd worked hard to complete all the duties as expected of a prefects fag in order to enjoy this time.

As the sun beat down, he reflected he ought follow the lead of his friends though the need to rise was at present contested by lethargic limbs. Dressed in cricket whites that were stained with smudging of green from the crushed grass beneath. Still breathing a little heavily. How nice it would be to nap, he reflected. Enjoying the way the moment dragged as if it could last an eternity.