#dreaming

"Do all who visit here go by such titles?"

"A true honor." She says, a bit dryly. To be chosen by the Grandmother IS an honor, but a forboding one. A mixture of relief and regret that she wasn't one of those three. "I shall have to think on that. Names have power, nicknames and use names too in their own way."

Yes, Calanthe, they do, but fear not, that voice, quite pleasing to her own preferences? A coincidence? Not likely, I tutor apprentices, and aid high adepts. That, not intrigue, is my purpose. Though a chuckle I suppose that is what a book made for intrigue would assure anyway.

Her lips curl up into a smile. This, she understands. "Then I will accept your hospitality, and the knowledge you offer, but wonder what you, and this place, may ask in return. The Grandmother is not known for her generosity without some sort of... oh, to say 'catch' sounds terribly gauche. Perhaps, just recompense?"

Not to that level anyway.\

A hint of a smirk... of course not. "Then I will accept it at face value, and be ready if such comes due." She gives the grimoire a fond stroke, before looking over the rest of the cabin.

Clearly this cabin was meant to cater to visitors of all sizes and statures, some of the furniture is troll worthy, other more.. manageable. The cauldron on the fire , a small kitchen area not that she herself uses such often, has been well stocked. Perhaps a surplus of squash. The large bedroom on the second floor is airy, reminding her of a proper ayrie in some ways, and the view magnificient. She can see from here the great balefire/bonfire in the center of the haven. No doubt folks will dance about it. It powers the structure that the field provides within the boundaries the river established... at least, that's a first glance surmise.

She certainly appreciates the view... spending a long moment gazing off over the haven, before curiosity turns her back inward.

And inward she goes. Interesting, there is a star chart on the wall, one suited for the Dreaming.. for example, the second star to the right and straight on till morning is labeled 'tyranical flying kid kingdom'

at the edge, a squid shaped constellation that says 'Where the stars are always right'

There are other books on the shelves. A Farmer's Almanac? A book that says 'Make up tips no matter your soul's season' , and history books on witches of the past

A finger lightly trails along the bookshelves as she reviews. Anything there about the more delicate arts of, let's say, handling and administration of the psyche, memories, and such? Her own area of expertise...

Wedged in the fashion book, a slip of paper

She almost didn't notice it. Should she peek at it, she finds it is on yellow velum

hastily dotted notes ... 'Primal, Soothsay, Pyretics covered... where are the other teachers? Grimmoire useful, sexy voice, but for beginers and intermediates. BY may have hidden clues to greater learning in Haven? Search the largest trees maybe_

"Search the trees." A soft sigh... if she'd only known, she would have brought one of her loyal birds with her. Then again, how could she have known? Greater learning, indeed. So this place is 'Haven'. She makes mental notes of the information.

The note carefully replaced. And she considers. A proper name for herself, if she does not wish to divulge her own identity. She ponders this as she exists the cabin, taking care to close the door and leave it just as it was found.

The cats follow her, and while more tolerable than dogs, they do not call to her heart as her birds of prey do. She walks down the hil and among those trees, wonndering if she might find a clue.

Calanthe is no sluagh (Dear Gods, who would WANT to be?) but when it comes to Avian life, she is experienced, and yes, alert. and while cats are associated with witches, so too are owls. And she spots one in the shadows of the canopy. Owls are not normally as bright as falcons or hawks, harder to tame with less pay off, yet this is a chimera

She has often admired owls, and considered working with them for their lovely silence and night vision - marvelous sentries or stealth messengers. A shame the popularity that Harry Potter gave them - while it did bolster their chimerical numbers, so many of the resulting dreams were of friendly, fluffy white creatures.

Still, she admires this chimera now, giving it a nod of her head in greeting. Quite aware that if it is bothering to observe her, it could easily see such a small motion.

No white fluffy thing here... those feathers are as black as pitch. Darker than the bark that is currently the backdrop to the bird. It twists its head in greeting, blinking with silver eyes.

Again, Eiluned and Ailil colors.. ah, like drawn to like perhaps? Basic magics in the very bones of the place? Or merely chance?

Oh, now THIS is something. Drawing closer, she holds out an arm, if it cares to come down. "May I admire you closer, lovely creature?"

Owls do not have a sense of smell, at least not a well developed one, hence they are the bane of skunks which to the owls are just slow moving monochromatic ground squirrels. However, the owl considers the offer and looks about her, searching for.. ah, food. Perhaps the cats are off limits. Perhaps the owl just demands fair recompense?

But she does swoop without sound to a lower branch. Oh she lacks the speed of the falcons, but so quiet, this is a stealth killer.

"Well, you marvelous huntress. I would not insult you with a bribe." not that she has any meat on her. "But if you'd like, I will bring something the next time I visit, as tribute to your loveliness." Calanthe offers.

the owl, drawn by the promise or perhaps talent of Calanthe, or both, lands down onto her arm at that as originally requested

Is that... actually a smile? A real smile! Not one born of sarcasm or sardonicism, nor cruel and pointed, but simple joy. A sight nearly as rare as an Owl dressed for Ailil court.

Oh yes, the owl knows she is elegant too. Not vain per se, but aware of it. There is power in her talons

She does not tear at the arm, rather, she is posed with as much as she needs, no more, no less.

And Calanthe notices the cats are, for the most part, giving space. Predator knows predator.

Calanthe carefully, carefully! And with respect - respect earned by knowing well how strong that beak is, how sharp those talons are, gives the owl a soft stroke on the downy chest feathers.

"Nothing so magnificent as you exists in the mortal world, not to mortal eyes, at least. It is a shame, but I am glad to have met you."

that head rotation and nod. She feels a connection with this owl, and knows, knows that when she is in Witch Haven, this Owl will be her companion.

"Do you have a name? Or may I give one to you, that I may properly address you?"

The owl tilts her head a the mentionn of a name, but at the second question, gives a head lift of affirmation

"What think you of 'Pallas'? A name taken by Athena, goddess of Wisdom, and beloved of Owls."

A pleased sound from the owl, they do have their own sounds, and she has studied them. Yes, Pallas

"Well then, lovely Pallas, I will let you return to your hunting. When I next visit this place, I will bring you what I promised, and you may visit me through the aerie window." Looking back towards the cabin with the high room and lovely view.

Pallas agrees, taking wing without a sound. The cats are safe, but hare , grouse, or chipmunk might as well consider her death on the wind. They cannot hide in the dark places. They will not know she is there until the talons have their purchase and burrow deep.

This 'Witch Haven' has it's gems

(End scene)