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 Posted: Mon Jul 30, 2012 2:48 pm
Bird watched Locke wipe the mud off (or at least try) with baffled interest, as if observing the strange behavior of some heretofore unknown species. "You're gonna get rained on anyway in a few minutes," she offered finally, unhelpfully. Then she nodded and reached into her pocket. After a moment of feeling around, she produced a soot-colored baby rook; its gangly, too-long legs stuck out from between her fingers, and the configuration of its beak from the front made it look like it was wearing a permanent frown. It frowned about at nothing in particular for a moment, and then looked up and frowned directly at Locke.
"Reminds me of you a little," Bird said, pleased. "You can have it, if you want. I don't need another animal around, and plus, I think Beauregard's worried I might be angling for a new familiar. Dead useful, too, rooks are." She pushed the rook toward Locke. It opened its beak and gave another horrid-sounding croak.
((Accidentally posted this using the mule the first time around, whoops!))
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2012 3:17 am
He hissed a soft curse at her reminder, scowling up sharply at the ever-darkening sky. In this manner, he missed the magical moment, and so when he turned his frown back to the girl, it met directly the frown of the rook. They frowned at each other for a moment thus, before Locke's senses caught up with him and his frown transformed into surprise.
"I don't -" he started as her words filtered through, but his hand was already moving towards the bird of its own accord, "I..." Rooks were dead useful, he had read enough handwritten snatches of lore in the past weeks to know: rooks were already clever, but those from the Wardwood were cleverer still. He had read of their talent for mimicry, their ability to memorise lines for relay. The disapproving look on the little creature's face showed promise enough for such intelligence...and the childish thought of annoying the hell out of Thornley with its capacity for speech appealed to him far more than it should... “I - I’m not sure how to raise it, but...” his instinctive beginning of a refusal resolved itself instead into this vague assent - before he could check it, his fingers had already lightly cupped, palm up, next to the girl's outstretched hand, ready for the bounty.
And then it struck him: "Familiar?" First he gaped at the sack of a toad, as if in disbelief that such a dull, ponderous, could have such secret power...and then he gaped at the girl, before finally articulating, incredulity laced with just the faintest hint of reluctant awe, "you're a hedge witch?" A fine picture he must have cut, eyes wide and hand stuck out next to the baby rook.
((W-w-wait U-Umbro does this mean...Locke c-could really get a rook?!?! ಥᗣಥ?!?!?!?!))
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2012 3:53 pm
"It's pretty easy, just feed it a lot of worms," Bird replied, as she bundled the chick into Locke's hand. "Also, it's gonna s**t all over you before it knows any better, fair warning. You should see the inside of my pocket."
She stepped back, wiping her palms off on her dress, and gave Locke a look indicating that she was trying to figure out whether or not he was pulling her leg. "What, they haven't got any witches where you're from?" And then, taking in his expression, "You alright? Your congenial defect isn't acting up, is it?"
((YESSSSSS))
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Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2012 5:37 am
He dearly wished she had warned him of that before passing the chick over, he really did. The thought that had appalled him so earlier of soiling his silk handkerchief now felt a dream compared to what was happening at that very instant in his hand. The prospect of the coming rain was suddenly boon rather than bane, the upcoming sacrifice of the handkerchief something to look forward to.
"Yes, too much excitement is also a trigger," he replied, deadpan - but also added, conscious of the fact that she had just given him a potentially very valuable gift, with the awkward and somewhat reluctant embarrassment of a man ill-acquainted with the concept of gratitude, "thank you." He studied girl and toad for a silent moment, willing the mud and warts (respectively) to take on new significance in the light of recent information, but they did not quite. He had not imagined a hedge witch in her image - rather, a wizened old crone with a black, flapping rook (perhaps like the one he now held with slight unease, croaking its ire at the cessation of worms), or a mysterious green-eyed woman with a rabbit, strangely still, staring from her arms. The little blurbs of hedgecraft he had come across in his research had intrigued him greatly, and if he had not been waylaid from his interests by the whims of the great ward-tree, he might have gone in search of a witch to ask questions of. This was not precisely the witch he would have sought - but one took what one could get.
"We have rather a shortage of witches on our land, to be honest," he said, mulling over his options (yes, perhaps the over-wide mouth could take on new significance - it certainly seemed...unique, possibly...uh...eldritch in a hedgecrafty manner) - there had been so much he had thought he would ask a hedge witch: what magic they wrought, the workings of that wroughting, how they had come to discover their talents, perhaps...but what spilled out before he knew he was speaking turned out to be, "what does your toad do?"
((;A; <3<3))
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2012 2:48 pm
Bird walked over a few steps, picked the toad up, and tucked it under her arm. In the darkness of the incoming storm its eyes indeed did glow, though dimly, like tarnished bronze reflecting lamplight, and a faint luminescence spilled out onto Bird's clothing where she held it. "Eats lots of bugs," she replied automatically. "Oh, you mean magic-wise? Well, not many witches take toads as familiars, that's for sure. Most'll tell you they don't do anything, but that isn't true. I think they just aren't paying enough attention. Easy not to, with toads."
She flinched and paused to squint up at the sky, which was growing increasingly threatening. Lightning lit up the clouds in patches in the distance. "Raindrop," she explained, and then looked back at Locke. "You planning on going anywhere? What's your name, anyway? Unless it isn't any of my business," she added, with a rather impudent smile.
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2012 12:25 pm
He noted thoughtfully that she hadn't actually told him just what it was that toad familiars do, which instantly made her, in his estimation, wiser than he'd hitherto believed - in respect of that, he did not push. The faint glow of its eyes, at least, was enough to convince him it harboured magic of some sort, whatever it was.
"Not until I've weathered out the storm," he replied to her less difficult question, biting back the impulse to say 'it isn't' to her second - having borne gifts (and the complaining chick in his hand made it impossible to forget that fact), she rather had the right to know. A second more of hesitation, then he reluctantly admitted, looking down at the scowling bird, "Locke Ormonton of Ashford. If you ever have need of me, call upon the main estate - at the back door, please...and tell them Lord Ormonton sent you." The last, he added with a wicked flicker of a smile.
"What is your name? I'll let the servants know not to turn you away," on sight, he continued in his head. He was loathe to reveal so much, but at least if she ever deigned to show up, he might finally learn what it was toad familiars did.
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