#earthrunes

Finding a pooka to ask, isn't too hard. Shallimar who hears questions about bird pooka and answers "Let's see, there's a Drag Queen named after a Mouse on the East Coaster.... I think there's an eagle fellow who hiked through here last year out to find himself under the name of nomad"

She explains the situation to him before asking, "Shallimar, can you find out if either has been near here recently? I admit I'm grasping at straws. It's more likely to have been a chimera under somebody's orders, but I don't want to leave anything out."

"You think a pooka is spreading disease?" Shalimar says "Willingly? I mean, the rare mosquito pooka maybe, but Emma, for example, is an enemy of rabies! And more"

"Not all pooka are as wonderful as those who have my trust and appreciation."

Shallimar nods "I shall inquire, mayhaps we of the paw patrol can find a wing man"

"Oh! August, would you please ask Zara if she could pursue this? Maybe she'd find something, some clue, that we haven't."

A faint, nostalgic smile. "If I can find her. I will leave her a note."

"Oh Zara, tish, what good does talking to a sluagh get you? Straight answers? Research? Keen insight? who needs THOSE" Shalimar faux tuts but his eyes are smiling

"Ah. Yes. I'll, ah.... just go check the library for her, then." he kisses Coradel's hand and leaves her to summon Delores.

Shalimar waves as August heads off to the library

August doesn't go so far as to tap at the door; he opens it quietly and steps inside, scanning around.

The library remains a testament to knowledge, stories, and ...well, fine taste

Bronte stirs and looks about "How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains!-
John Muir " She smiles to see August

"Darling?" The whisper is hard to hear, from somewhere in the stacks.

The Librarian soon appears, of course. Her arms are full of books.

'Ah... no, just me." August corrects, not without humor. "Hello."

"Hello, Bronte." he adds.

"August." A soft smile.

"There is tea, if thou wisheth?" She crosses, setting the books down on a cart.

"Humility is a virtue, and it is a virtue innate in guests. - Max Beerbohm" Bronte says pleased. She has grown yet larger, gone is the wee bookwyrm that once could perch on a single palm. She has grown larger than most housecats, but perhaps not so large that she can't drape across shoulders in greeting

"I'd like that very much, yes. Thank you." He joins Zara, and his shoulders are clear should Bronte feel the urge.

"How fares Samson? And thy lady?" Two cups are prepared, with fresh cream and curdled respectively.

Bronte does, and she drapes about him like a draconic stole

"Samson is hurting and unwell, and Coradel is.... on edge." he responds honestly.

"Of course. Know we yet what started this? Did the vet have aught to say?" She sets his cup in front of the sidhe.

"Thank you." he takes the cup "The veterinarian seems baffled; doing the usual mortal testing. Healer Emma is carrying most of the success, at least in terms of keeping Samson comfortable. Samson said ... ah, via cantrip.... that a bedraggled crow had been in and around his feed. We, Coradel and I, wondered if that crow might not be all it seems."

She quirks a brow.

"That could be notable, aye. I have not the art to replay the past, but Soothsay may yet reveal answers."

"And you are our foremost Soothsayer." he says honestly.

"Yet" The bookwyrm mutters softly

That earns a small grey smile. "Ah, thou flatters."

Indeed, the 'official Seer' is out on vacation at this time, the Eiluned doesn't take such often, but even he would admit Zara far surpasses him in Soothsay

"I compliment, sincerely."

"Mm." She stares at August, before a hand darts out like a striking snake - snatching something from his shoulder.

A deft twist of her fingers, and the sluagh examines the hair she had plucked. "Fortunately, thou came prepared with what I needed. Always thoughtful, nu?"

August froze in place as she struck, and offers her a shy smile "One tries....."

A flash of black gums as she smiles again. "That you do. One of the many thing I love about you. So... let me work, here."

He nods, and composes himself to sit quietly.

Zara claims a fresh teacup, filling it with hot water before dropping in Samson's stray hair.

The hair floats at first, but slowly 'drinks in the tea' and is sucked into the tea's depths in return.

Zara lightly touches the back of August's hand, drawing him in, but her gaze is fixed on the liquid.

Zara's glamour always smells like fall, even in the bright days of summer. It gathers close, swirling and concentrating, and a gleam of silver draws in to focus...

August exhales; his own Glamour, soft but pure, lays at her fingertips to draw on if needed.

the glamour mixes, and mingles, and grows all the more powerful for friendship entwined

Shadows dance in the depths, revealing a story... "How came Samson to this state?"

She (And August who has been given a glimpse by her) sees it well, birds casting shadows over cattle, autumn gray to view, mortal.... then farmers look up, and they add color, dark colors, pale colors, colors of fear and worry.. and the shadows weave in a helix form, a pattern of dream and life.... a blending. It should be temporary, a passing storm, but one of the crows is seized by a nightmare shadowhand and painted with malefic hands... then let go again. A single crow... alive barely, and kept so by the will of some nightmare...

it lands in grain buckets, in lands in feed bags, it leaves a taint, and the illness spreads. Samson eats... and the shadow spreads along the helixes inside of himself, and that strong horse starts to wither

And the crow carries the burden, but somewhere a nightmare being is laughing.

A soft hiss.

She directs the magic - the crow is a tool, wielded by another hand. Seeking, grasping, ink-black eyes seeking through shadows.