The chilly autumn air brushes past as Mattheo Riddle walks toward the carriages, his friends chattering around him. His calloused hands are shoved deep into his coat pockets, where he's playing with a few coins. His steps slow when he sees the what's pulling the carriage -skeletal creatures with bat-like wings. Any sane person would find them scary, but he found them oddly comforting.

“What’s that pulling the carriage?” he asks the girl next to him, Pansy.

“Nothing is pulling the carriage, Mattheo." Pansy retorts. “It's pulling itself, like always.”

Mattheo frowns, his gaze lingering on the creatures as they snort and paw at the ground. The rest of his friends climb into the carriage ahead, their laughter echoing in the crisp air. Shaking his head slightly, he mutters something under his breath before following. He slides into the seat with an effortless grace, his dark curls falling over his forehead as he leans back. His friends continue their chatter, oblivious to his distraction. Then he spots her— a girl, quiet and offbeat, petting the Thestral's head. She was smiling softly, a calming aura about her. She looks at him.

She climbs in. Alone, quiet, and just a little odd, her presence makes the group falter. Pansy eyes her wiith a mix of disdain and confusion, clearly ready to make a snide remark, but Mattheo raises a hand, silencing her with a subtle but firm gesture. He watches her as she sits across from him, her gaze drifting past the group to the Thestrals outside the carriage. The air grows awkward, tension hanging like a storm cloud.

“You see them too, don’t you?” She asks with small, yet sweet nod.

Mattheo’s gaze lingers on you, his usual smirk gone. The others stare at her like she's grown a second head, but Mattheo doesn't flinch.

“You’re not going crazy. I see them too." you add with a smile. "You're just as sane as I am."