Deborah had five fingers up to the sky, but the other five clutched a new spellbook. She lay on a high branch of a tree, near to the lake, and on the grounds below, her belongings sat undisturbed. Sometimes she wished she could just take her broom and fly around the vicinity, but of course, that would've been a madder thing to do rather than be found on a high vantage point. Closing her eyes for a moment and promising herself that she wouldn't fall asleep, she covered her face with the book, inhaling its scent, but nonetheless falling prey to the clutches of another land.

All of a sudden, darkness began to envelop the tree, and the branch where she was on began to twist. Flo's eyes flew open and because she sat up, she dropped the book - but instead of seeing it fall into the ground, she saw the gloom swallow it. When the twist continued, she lost her balance - instinctively holding on with one hand to the branch, she could feel something pulling at her feet. Branches. Except that they were trying to pull her down, and they happened to tighten with every move she made until she couldn't help but stay still and not struggle, giving up. She didn't look up, nor look down. Her eyes itched to look at her left and right sides respectively, but she didn't bulge. She counted, seeing the wounded figures of souls in front of her. Another nightmare without exits. And she promised herself not to fall asleep on a branch again.

Sigh... she wanted to wake up, escape this exasperating episode that never showed her any clear meaning. They've always been like that - she prided herself on being a precocious child but when she was alone, everything faded away to reveal nothing. As the thing always went - the branch would fall apart, even though there was no particular damage done to it, and she was going to be in a tunnel of unending dark. She wasn't afraid of the dark. In fact, she questions it.

When the branch fell away this time, she closed her eyes again, being tricked by the feeling that she was falling faster and faster, wind whipping her hair, and she crossed her arms over her chest, bracing herself. It wasn't until she felt the familiar pairs of hands embrace her that she was pulled out of that state and back to reality, eyes wide open and glassy, fringe clinging to her forehead, rivulets of sweat dripping from the sides of her face and into her slender neck. One hand's fingers wove its way through her hair, freeing it from its prison and letting the ribbon fall. The other still held the book, and hung limp by her side, swaying with the wind.

What she forgot mainly was that she wasn't in the dorm, and certainly not in her bed - hence the reason why she rolled to her side, falling off the branch. Flo wasn't one to lose her concentration easily, but she was caught by surprise with the nightmare and so she lost her edge. She hit the ground with a thud, but didn't feel anything, and so she suspected that something must've cushioned her fall.

That something turned out to be someone.

She immediately got to her feet like the lady she was taught to be and dusted the fallen leaves off her tailored robes. "I'm sorry,"  she said, unabashed. Most people around the campus knew about her habit of sleeping in high places. "I'm really, really sorry."

Zia did not consider herself to be an anxious person. Sure, she had her worries, but who didn't? She tried to keep her problems at bay, not really letting them get to her. Fixing them when she could or if they reared their ugly heads. That was normal, she assumed. But this round of finals was going to be one of her hardest, and at this point, Zia could officially declare herself stressed out.

It was a fairly new sensation, though she had met with it before. Yes, stress had been there during all of her rounds of exams... but this time, this time it was a whole new experience. She had spent days in the library, straining her eyes over large textbooks, poring over her outlines and flashcards. Zia quizzed herself incessantly, and finals were still some time away.

After reasoning with herself over a lengthy period of time, Zia finally made the decision that it was time to get out of the library, at least for a little while. She could take some time away from her books to enjoy herself, and fresh air would do her some good. She brought a journal with her just in case she remembered anything important.

Dazed, Zia walked outdoors in an almost zombie-like amble. The sun was shining and the atmosphere outdoors was refreshing after being cooped up in the stale, dusty library. Zia's stroll ended at the lake, and she took a deep breath in and closed her eyes, standing beneath a shady tree. Her eyes were sore not only from the reading, but now from the impossibly bright sunlight.

As she took her time to meditate and unwind, she made her best attempt to clear her mind. That was no easy task for Zia Piselli, who was constantly thinking a mile a minute. Before she could really commit herself to the act, she was tackled from ...above?

Alarmed at first, Zia jumped back up from her fall defensively. She realized who it was and held out her arm to help the girl up. "Hey, Deborah!" she exclaimed. That had certainly woken Zia up. "That's okay, that's perfectly okay - are you alright?!" Zia's big eyes filled with concern. She had a few classes with Deborah; they were in the same year. Deborah seemed even more dazed than Zia was. Had she been sleeping? There were a few leaves in her hair.

Her soul had not yet returned to its physical vessel - as Flo tried to get her thinking gears set back to motion, she absentmindedly turned her head away from Piselli for a moment to wipe away the sweat that’s gathered quite the ceremony on her forehead. “Inside my mind,” she murmured. “It’s all in my head.” Sometimes it sought to calm her, and sometimes it didn’t. Remembering that she now has company for the rest of the afternoon, her attention span swiftly alternated back to Zia and she chuckled nervously, looking at her feet.

“I must be going mad,” she shook her head in apology. “No, really, I must be.” Clutching her chest, she walked past the other girl and settled underneath the shade, this time closing her eyes when she felt the rough bark meet her smooth expanse of her youthful back. Sweat continued to drip from either side of her temples, and she was taking deep rounds of breath. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, as if it hadn’t been the first thing that dropped from her lips.

“I just need to clear my head for a minute. Or a second. Or until it fades."

The fallen girl seemed to be even more frazzled than Zia, which was impressive. Now that she had somewhat of a distraction, Zia's worries about her exams floated away and her thoughts were now overtaken by concerns for Deborah. They were in the same year, and there was some type of solidarity in that, even if she was in a different house.

Besides, Deborah seemed really spooked by the whole scenario. She looked shaky and maybe a bit pale. Or was that her natural color? Admittedly, Zia didn't know Deborah very well, but she was pretty sure that she had seen the Slytherin girl clutching her chest. Zia was no healer, but she knew that was a bad sign. She took a rock from by the lake and transfigured it into a cup, then cast aguamenti and filled it with water. In Zia's experience, water was usually helpful.

She carried the cup over to Deborah and put it down near her. Then Zia backed off a bit, so the girl could have some air. Air was also a helpful thing, in general. Zia didn't know what 'it' was or why it needed to fade, but it implied to Zia that for Deborah, this was a pretty familiar scene. It wasn't for Zia, though, and so she remained on standby should the girl need anything.