#fenixtj

She nods. "Thank you."

After the Baron departs, she goes to her chambers. There.... she examines the priestess garb.

She puts it on. No harm in that, here in her room.

It feels surprisingly comfortable, physically speaking

She is a rather modest woman, or so most would label her, but she fills it well. Perhaps because it was magically tailored to her

She sits on the bed and thinks back... she was with Clem, and they'd... been out hiking. Glamour, and then... or did Clem cast a cantrip on her? And she'd become... Clem or the Dreaming told her to choose? A hawk. A large on, brown, with a white throat. And when they'd landed.... they landed in these garments.

She remembers being told the feathered cloak of the outfit was a minor treasure. How minor?

Clem had cast the spells on them both. Jessica recalls she , as a bird, had a black body, white chest and head except for a patch of black feathers slicked back on her head like a toupee. Hooked orange yellow beak....

She nods, the memory coming back.

What had been said about the treasure?

But they met something, someone, Otem said something about the being she met being like THEIR TUatha

Constance was the one who mentioned the cloak was a minor treasure.

She kenns it herself.

She can recall the words, she had them written down...

"Chosen One" "Crowned you are, twice and now three times. By your people, but you try to save mine. You will have that chance, but it will risk your life" "When the sky weeps tears of blood, and the sun stays red, the last of the stones will grow cold" "Do not feed the humming bird. Ready the Circle. Seek the Wisdom of Waters" "Old Medicine, so very old...Hold Fast, Phoenix, you are a part of the land, draw on your roots!"

She sighs. She was never good at puzzles.

And it is frustrating, but there is magic in the cloak, she kens that. Wait, CLEM was the one who was told she had a minor treasure. While it seems likely Jessica's would be much the same, it's possible her does more?

It feels more than a bit minor, though hard to judge

Reluctantly, she has to conclude that Otem -might- know. She changes quickly, at least she throws something on over, and goes to see if she can find him.

She finds no sign of him, but recognizes one Nunnehi snake woman that was in his group

She approaches with a nod, warrior to warrior.

"Chieftain" SHe observes. Not a troll title in her eyes, but a Nunehi one

That makes her lips curve slightly.

"Do you.... how should I call you?"

"Brave Hestia" She says "if you wish"

"Brave, then. Thank you. Do you know where I could find Otem?"

"He is leading men on drills and patrols and asked me to remain should you need word sent to him." A nod "I am among the fastest runners of my squad"

"I thank you for remaing to be of service. Um." she thinks, frowning "Do you... is there anyone here who... um, might know something about objects of power? Magical ones?"

"TIto Woden is casting, and Scribe Constance is with her mate of choice" She ponders

"I am a scout more than a medicine woman , I can try to help but I doubt I would know much?"

"Mm. No. Perhaps it's best to wait."

"If you wish. I can deliver word to him if you change your mind" A shrug

"No, don't... I mean, don't bother him now but when you see him, tell him I have a question?"

"I will tell him when he returns that you seek to question him" A nod

"I'm not going to interogate him; I just have a question to ask."

"yes" She nods not seeing the difference perhaps

"Thank you." She heads back towards her quarters via the 'Fire, to pause for a break there.

She pauses and the flame rises to greet her.

She sits in her familiar attitude, fingers just in the 'Flames. "Hi."

the flames wrap around as if giving a light squeeze of reassurance.

"Thanks." softly.

"What do you think?"

A brief surge ... gratitude to those who are working so hard to help, like Otem, the redcap brothers, Nancy and Tito Woden. Deep concern for Coy but hope

"Do what you can for him. He'll rest with you a while, I'm sure."

A flare of ascent

"There you go. Do -you- know anything about that cloak?"

She asks, but doesn't expect a positive answer.

An image of a bird, landing on a rock ...

and a sense of a halo around the bird.

She rolls her eyes, not without humor. "I am so not a saint."