#rivervale_lodge

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A day or two passes, and Jaymes is fully recovered, Tove and (Presumably) dagmar have less reason to stress. At the lodge, a plate of cookies, that smell delicious has appeared. A note saying 'please only take one' next to it. Is it Kerri's work? Sally mae's? Tove?

Dagmar snags one after school, before homework.

Dagmar walks by, mmm smells just how she likes them

Cookie, Dr. Pepper... well, that should make pre-a;algebra less painful.

She sits down to work, nibbling away.

As she nibbles... yeah, this might be the best cookie she's ever had, thus it must be Tove's work right?

And even a normally perceptive troll might not realize their skin is glowing, their very mein going like hot wax

Siv comes in from the drive "Mae's a might squeemish"

"Hmm? What's she squeamish about?"

"oo cookies" Siv says grabbing one and not really looking at the algebra or Dagmar yet... "Speed, she's very fussy about 20 miles over the speed limit" Nibble "Oh my gawd this is good"

"Right?" A grin.

"Kerri's really outdone herself this time..." Her eyes begin to light up, but they look at Dagmar "Dags? You're glowing"

"Hunh? What are you talking about?" She scowls at her math.

"I mean I.. you're skin looks all waxy" Her own skin glowing, the blue fading, but no less glamour for that

"Aw, shit, so are you!"

"Oh my.." She looks at her hands "I think I'm melting" A blink "Well, not exactly oh shit...Pardon"

Pardon? Odd thing to...

Dagmar glows brighter, a myriad of hues, as everything in the lodge gets bigger. Wait, it's not getting bigger, she's losing height

"Hey!"

So is Siv "We must stay calm" her voice gaining a touch more authority and loveliness. Then again, Dagmar's own voice is gaining new qualities too

"You aren't shrinking!"

"I think I am.." She says

She reaches up, touching her horns. Still there!

...wait...

Oh shorter, but also fairer... Siv's already pretty features refining to beauty, her blue gone, but her ears sharpening.

For Dagmar, ther'es a set of horns, but they don't feel like that usual row she has.. more defined. And pointy?

"Siv, you look like a sidhe."

"Not a she-she but a sidhe."

"That's impossible , Dagmar. " She says with what she hopes is gentle authority "For now, we remain calm. Mother is not here, so it behooves us to act in her stead in the most orderly fashion we can for the moment aye?"

She snorts. "Bullcocky. Look at yourself."

For Dagmar, calm may not be the right feeling. Excitement, fear, curiosity!

She hops (?!) down from the chair and lands with the clatter of hooves.

"Dagmar, I... you have hooves" She gestures.

"I do!"

the clatter certainly confirms this. Dagmar feels..weaker... in some ways, but also has an energy

She tugs at her jeans, which are quickly resolving themselves, chimerically at least, into a leather hoplite skirt...

"Oh my..." Siv strides towards a reflective surface and gazes, her eyes once the color of the sea, now seem to almost have a vision of the sea in them, shimmering with a light even as the glow dims. "Well then, yes, I do owe you an apology. IT would appear that I am a sidhe"

"Okay, majorly weird...."

"Is this some kind of fuddle? CONNOR!?"

"A fuddle can't change what we an do and.." Siv tries to lift something "I am weaker it seems. I could be imagining it thanks to a fuddle or something but I don't think so."

Siv's head turns, and her hair flows about her shoulders perfectly, like she was in a slow motion model video.

"Could make us think we were different, though. Like hypnosis?"

"Possibly, but it's pretty powerful. Oh I wish I had listened to father's talks of the arts more... wait, satyrs run fast. Maybe if you test that? "

"How do they even walk on these?"

"Like, my legs are backwards." She tests her balance, then hops on one hoof. A little tail wag.

"I'm not sure, I've never had hooves" She herself almost glides across the room "I FEEL different. I mean, am I acting different?I feel like I'm acting differently. "

A soft musical giggle at the tail wag

"Uhg... I feel.." She strips off her hoodie, revealing the t-shirt beneath. And her arms. They are marked with old scars - a few curious circular ones, and a collection of close-set lines.