By the time Venera got to the camp, she was already edging out of lightly annoyed into irritated. She loved her father, she did. She really did. She had to remind herself of that as he kept talking. She supposed he had a few years to make up for, but he was doing a good job fussing over her, even though only some of these things were applicable. No voodoo? What did he think she was getting up to in this kind of thing? She laughed a bit, aloud, as he fussed but other than that tried to be respectful about it.
“You don’t have to worry about me, dad.†She said, using the nickname this time, rather than his real name. She usually called him Aldemar, really, but sometimes he earned it and sometimes she wanted something. This time was the former, rather than the latter. After all, he had already agreed to let her come here and she was excited about it. A few months away from boring, frozen, Durmstrang. At least last summer, which had been scary and difficult, had been interesting. She didn’t see any chance of repeating the fun, though. She hated sitting inside at home and doing nothing.
“You don’t have to worry about boys, either.†She grumbled low enough. She liked boys still, abut was still reeling after the way Kalevi had treated her the year before—the little weasel. She was not looking for a repeat performance of that. She actually, honestly, hoped that Kalevi wouldn’t be there at all this year. She knew a lot of Durmstrang students were going to camp, but maybe it wouldn’t be everyone?
She put her bags on the ground by the entrance and turned to him, opening her arms for a hug. “Come ‘ere?†She offered, waiting for him to take the small bit of affection she allowed him. She was certainly in the ‘parents cramp my style’ stage of life, and he was her Professor to boot. Due to this, her affection was few and far between, especially hugs or kisses she initiated.