Now Found PV

⋖ 26/Mar/2024 @ before sunrise | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Pericles Dralt | MENTIONING n/a
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The filtered light of the moon became eclipsed by the silhouette of a rather humanoid head above. With the corona of a silver glow about its circumference, she wasn't quite privy to the rare smile that had been proudly sent her way. It was for the best, really. Had she seen it, she might have balked, retreating from its warmth to fall into herself and cut the encounter short right then and there. Instead, she allowed her gaze to lose some of its focus, toying with the ethereal quality of the moon's position. He could fit right in alongside the rest of her iconography. Dralt had certainly played the role of guardian tonight, she reflected. She had never asked for a sign, disillusionment having long since cast its shadow over former beliefs. But every now and then, some part of her wondered--perhaps even hoped--that He was still trying to maintain a thread of contact, sending angels to watch over her.

"I'm confident the professor's arm will grow back in no time whatsoever."

"Pardonwhat?!" Violently pulled from her reverie with the delayed but heavily hitting implication that part of the lapse in her memory had involved the severance of a professor's limb, Evelynn balked, eyes wide and blinking, a look of absolute horror draining all colour from her features in the second it took to reel her focus back from the far horizon to fix upon the messenger, tweaking her neck in the process, so swiftly did it snap sideways in his direction. Cognizance of the sarcasm delivered its counterblow even as she was initially reacting, and just as swiftly as she shock had crossed her features did they then contort into the scorned disapproval of one who had been gulled. She huffed, for a rare moment looking rather reminiscent of a petulant child as she crossed her arms, frowning. "That is not amusing!"

What ruffling he had caused, however, he managed to soothe somewhat with the admiration that followed. Still, it didn't entirely smooth the wrinkle that seemed to have made its home upon her brow and her shoulders seemed to drop some, gaze falling with them. Though she did not directly accept the offered quilt, she slid slowly down the trunk of the tree until she was seated at its base, layers of tulle and satin billowing out around her as though swallowing her in a sea of rolling clouds and lightning. Her arms relaxed, hands loosening their purchase upon either limb until they gradually fell to rest open palmed within her lap.

"You are lying to me." It was less an accusation and more a statement of fact. He had to have been. While she may have been able to return to her human form and had avoided the gruesome fate of a partial transformation, forever to be cursed as neither human nor entirely animal, there was a distinct lapse in the timeline of her memory, a void that had swallowed a series of events she could not recall. That was not a sign of a perfectly executed ritual. "Why?"

@Evelynn Decipio

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	"That is not amusing!" Pericles preferred to play the role of ethereal champion, graceful in his guidance and persevering in protection, but he was still a teenage wizard. A bit of morbid comedy now and then couldn't be helped. The horror on her face led to stern chastisement, to which he could only throw up his hands and say, grinning in a manner more fit for an imp than an angel, "Sorry, sorry...." The better his mood, the more apparent his humor, and tonight he was absolutely elated. Yet at the first sign Eve was in doubt of her own success, all jokes were set aside. The Ravenclaw shook his head and lowered the volume of his voice, tone soft yet firm with due seriousness. "I was teasing before, but I wouldn't lie to you. Especially not about something like this." He crouched, sitting on his heels, fishing in his coat until he produced an antique pocket watch. Undoubtedly an heirloom, its bronze lid was engraved with a crest bearing a crowned helm, noble cloak, and the cyclical serpent Ouroboros. A press of the thumb and its latch sprung open with a crisp click. He turned its face towards her, cautioning "Don't panic, but you've lost a bit of time. Perfectly normal for a first transformation. I hardly remember mine, either." Once Eve had a moment to process the time, Peri returned the clock to his coat in exchange for a familiar length of walnut. He extended an arm, and when the wand was returned to its rightful owner, it greeted her with the immediate activation of its unusual ability. As though acting as a conduit, a memory sparked across the wood between them: a literal birds-eye-view from a frightfully high canopy, vision so clear and acute that it could not be human, tracking the movement of a great red cat. She prowled the Forbidden Forest with mannerisms of a creature that belonged to the wilds, yet the wonder of one who was seeing an old place in a new light. When the eagle called out, she craned her regal head, meeting him with storm-grey eyes and a black beauty mark on the leftmost side. Blissfully unaware of the exchange, Pericles was saying somewhere in the background: "You must be exhausted. Stay here, catch your breath, I'll track down the professor and let them know we've made it out just fine. I'll be back for you as soon as I'm sure they aren't sending out a search party. We went on one hell of a romp- but I'll tell you all about that later, once you've slept."
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⋖ 26/Mar/2024 @ before sunrise | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Pericles Dralt | MENTIONING n/a
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Lips crimped, doubt still knitted in her brows as denial countered any suggestion of falsehood. Something still nagged at her, suggesting that her transformation hadn't been as perfectly normal as he was suggesting, but it wasn't like there was any significant evidence to suggest otherwise. Despite her involvement in the League of Aspirant Animagi, her pursuit of the ritual had been largely an individual one. She hadn't talked to anyone about their personal experiences with first transformations, not that there were many of them to be able to do so anyway. It wasn't exactly announced when someone had completed their transformation, so with the exception of a rare few, she wasn't actually certain how many of them were already registered.

Still, she wanted to believe Dralt would have no reason to lie to her, and he sounded earnest in his assurance, so she held her tongue and tried to set the lingering uncertainty aside. She more sensed, rather than saw, as the Ravenclaw crouched beside her and while she didn't turn her head to watch his descent, her gaze did redirect to the watch as he presented it. A brief glimpse of the engraved crest was all she got before he popped open the cover and turned its face. It only reinforced what the rising of the sun had already hinted: several hours had passed in what felt like the blink of a waking dream.

As the pocket watch disappeared, auburn curls cushioned a head that lolled back to rest against the tree. A hand reached out reflexively to accept her wand as it was presented. "Thank...you..." Her appreciation shifted to a breathy exhalation of surprise. In that moment where the wand maintained connection with the both of them, a vivid image flooded her mind, eyes growing unfocused. Lips parted as absorption in the moment relaxed her countenance. Until then, any visions she had picked up could never really be taken for granted. Imagination, dream, or memory... they all intertwined in the miasma of the mind, providing no concrete frame of reference with which to interpret them.

This, though... She was watching herself, she quickly realized, reliving immediately recent moments from a different perspective, privy to the specific details he'd honed in on. If she hadn't quite literally just experienced those very moments, it would have been difficult to make the connection. It was uncanny, really. Like watching an excerpt from a National Geographic episode with a drone trailing after an elusive wild cat, graceful and powerful, with an obvious restless cunning behind its eyes.

"....but I'll tell you all about that later, once you've slept."

She blinked, suddenly vaulted back into the present as the vision concluded. "..pardon?" Vague awareness indicated that the silver-haired youth had been speaking for some time, but only the last of it registered. "Sleep?" This was the moment she loathed. It always left her so disoriented, sacrificing moments of her present to give seconds of another's and leaving her with little gaps in doing so. Her mind worked furiously to try to sift what she could of the background noise to piece together into some semblance of understanding, but was found lacking, likely looking rather spacey instead. "I have no intention of sleeping," she finally uttered, latching onto what little she'd heard. "I am not tired." Knowing she was likely to forsake sleep on the night of the lightning storm, she had proactively induced sleep for herself with a bit of a tonic the night before. Miraculously, it had allowed her almost a full night of uninterrupted slumber. As far as she was concerned, she wouldn't be likely to sleep again until the following day. "Besides, I slept some yesterday."

Only then did it occur to her, faculties fully returned, that perhaps he was merely being polite. "Though I would understand if you would like to get what sleep you can. I did interrupt your night. I apologize."

@Evelynn Decipio

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	The strange change which overcame Eve, once her wand entered her hand, was cause for concern. Peri took in the way her jaw slackened, eyes softened, gratitude split by a quiet gasp. His head would tilt to the side as he examined the accompanying expression: not one of pain, but a look as if- for that brief span- her mind was far away. The Ravenclaw graciously considered that she may be overtired, but it wouldn't be the last time he had cause to wonder where she went. "Besides, I slept some yesterday." In an act of faux sternness, Pericles folded his arms, retorting "Well that's the thing about sleeping. You're supposed to do it every day." He didn't sound sold on that excuse, but then again, he couldn't blame Eve for being in no hurry to get to bed. It stood to reason that any animagus could have a different experience. At the end of his first shift, he had felt drained to his marrow, eager to drag his body to the Ravenclaw dorms so as to sleep off the experience. Eve appeared energized, eager for answers as ever. Pericles would do his best to accommodate her. He pushed himself to his feet, prepared to track down the professor, only to stop come the claim that she had somehow interrupted his night. The eagle's seriousness was genuine this time around as he insisted, shaking his head, "You made my night. Thank you for letting me be a part of your experience." Blunt, not a trace of falsified politeness, not at all open for argument. While Pericles hadn't fully finished processing the spectacular night, he wasn't about to undervalue the significance of such a momentous achievement. His parting words were: "I'll be back. It won't take a moment." With that, he put some space between them, clawed cloak billowing in the breeze before the fabric morphed into tailfeathers. Pericles made a point to track down the overseeing professor as quickly as his wings allowed. He would convey that the two were safe, that Eve had been trailed without incident, and that her mind had regained dominance over her animal half. Considering no injury was sustained, he considered the night a memorable success. After vowing to escort the Gryffindor back to their tower, the League director would take flight yet again. He savored the crisp air of early morning, replaying the night's events in his mind's eye, reimagining the rich red of the lioness until he spied the same shade below. Pericles had left his bag by her when he took off. As he glided to the ground, he resumed shape besides it, assuring "It's done, we're in the clear. How do you feel?"
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⋖ 26/Mar/2024 @ before sunrise | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Pericles Dralt | MENTIONING n/a
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Although she had expected Dralt to rebuff her apology, Evelynn hadn't quite expected the depth of gratitude in his response. Her gaze had followed him as he rose and prepared to step away, but it dropped then, the whisper of a smile finding purchase on the typically melancholic features. Shifting her position to let her legs slide flat in front of her, she could only nod, rolling her wand between her fingers. When he left, he seemed to take some of the warmth with him. Wand tucked back away out of sight, she reached for the blanket. It really was considerate, his thinking to bring one. She leaned forward to pull it around behind her before leaning back against the trunk, blanket pulled cozily around her frame. Eyes drifted to the heavens as she awaited the bird's return, reflecting the constellations suspended above. Against the backdrop of the unknown and infinite potential, she replayed the image of an auburn cat racing through the darkness.

"I..." The returning flutter of feathers dusted the visions temporarily away, though her attention remained skyward, a thoughtful and searching sort of tranquility enveloping her countenance. How did she feel? It was such a simple question, and yet an immediate answer eluded her. Part of her still couldn't quite believe that she had just been something other. Nothing had changed. And at the same time, everything had. It left her with the same sort of bafflement that had befallen her after having been made aware of Hogwarts' existence and her enrollment therein. That state after having been given visible, tangible evidence to a life-altering claim, but before quite having come to terms with and processed it. "I am not entirely certain... if I am to be honest.

"In many ways, it feels like it was a dream, I suppose. I mean, it is obviously a relief to have successfully completed the ritual. That nothing went wrong, well nothing significant anyway, it is a relief." She nodded subtly, almost more to herself. "There is no denying that.. And I will no longer have to maintain the spell come morning and night, or worry about the potion, or track the weather...But..." Brows furrowed slightly, eyes drifting down towards the castle across the grounds. "I had gotten so used to those rituals. It is almost hard to think of routine without them." They were among the only routine activities she had still maintained. Where everything else had fallen to pieces, she had still managed to recite her spell every morning and every night. In some way, it almost felt like she'd slipped and lost a handhold. "And it is a bit strange... I should be happy," she continued quietly again after a moment of silence. "Becoming an animagus is supposed to be one of the most difficult feats of magic... But for some reason..." She scoffed, looking back up towards the sky. "I feel disappointed."

@Evelynn Decipio

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	There was comfort in preparation. Even if one couldn't possibly predict all outcomes in a procedure such as this, Pericles was of a mentality that it didn't hurt to try, choosing to brace for whatever possibilities his imagination could concoct. His own experience had lent some insight. For one, he had learned that the presence of mirrors had no place at an animagus ritual. But the quilt draped over Evelynn, alongside the glass bottles of water he fished from his satchel, served as meager yet meaningful comforts. There was no recovering what time nor memories were lost, so the bird instead set his sights on offering company and reassurance. Unbothered by the rain-soaked grass, he sank into a seat besides her, presenting the water with an outstretched arm. Although Pericles hardly considered water to be a celebratory drink, he held up his bottle with a congratulatory "Cheers." As Eve spoke, her companion turned his face towards the Scottish twilight: clouds started to segment, the vestiges of a great storm gone, exposing a deep blue-iris backdrop. It faded for a gentler shade as the sun crested the horizon, forming a gradient from gold to lilac to blue. Nothing had changed, and at the same time, everything had. Peri feigned ignorance in the wake of her uncertainty, prompting her to go on with an inquisitive "Oh?" While familiar with the feeling, he hadn't stopped to put it into words, a talent Evelynn executed with both eloquence and insight. Her ritual was a success. No one had come to harm, and the tedium of obsessive procedures was at an end. "But...." There it was. The sleepy lidded look with which he regarded the sunrise turned towards her, deceptive relaxation masking an underlying suspense. As much as she knew she ought to feel accomplished, that she "should" be happy, the result proved more complex. "I feel disappointed." Those silvery eyes softened in empathy. They averted as he took a pensive drink, using the action as an excuse to mull over his response. Pericles blotted his lips with a sleeve before speaking, voice low and laced with reflection. "Change isn't always an instant gratification. It felt similarly for me, only, I'd say it's more the inverse. The idea was the dream. The aftermath is our reality, the shift from 'before' to 'after', we've woken and the dream is over. I imagine it's a bit like growing up, that way. You expect it to be this sort of 'becoming', to arrive and for everything to click into place. That's what I believed when I was little." He idly toyed with the flip lid of his bottle, flicking it with a thumb. "Now, I believe even adults are still discovering themselves. Animagi are too. You know that you become a great cat, but do you know why...? We're the only ones who can answer that for ourselves. I thought, maybe I became a sea-eagle because I'm inexorably linked to the ocean. Maybe it's because my grandmother cared for one, and she taught me most of what I know about animagi. Maybe, it's because of the freedom a set of wings offers me." Freedom from what, he didn't specify. That detail was unimportant in their early morning meditation. To look at them, one likely wouldn't assume the duo of fifth-years was discussing anything especially deep. Eve was wrapped in a quilt against a tree while Pericles sat on the ground, ignoring the dew soaking through his coat. One leg was outstretched, the other bent, a hand bracing the bottle atop his knee as the opposite stretched behind him, propping him up. A pine needle stuck out of his wind-swept hair, a look disheveled but deeply relaxed. He paused from speaking and watching the sunrise, sliding a squint her way to give the girl an analyzing look. "Your animagus animal cannot be chosen, changed, or predicted. It is the truest, most natural aspect of yourself. You're a practical person. Maybe it was to do with the cat's perfect balance of speed and strength. Maybe, you're too set on taming yourself, which is why the first thing she did when set free was to run for the wilds." His mouth twitched with a restrained smirk, coupled with the shrug of a shoulder, dismissing the line as a mere theory. "I can't say, just as no one can say you 'have' to be happy. Yes, you've accomplished the ritual, but it isn't the process or the completion that matters most. It's what you'll do now that you've arrived. You can still be proud of that in the meantime, until you sort out the rest."
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⋖ 26/Mar/2024 @ before sunrise | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Pericles Dralt | MENTIONING n/a
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As Pericles took a thoughtful pull from his bottle of water, Evelynn simply dropped her gaze to the one in her own grasp. She had accepted the beverage when it had been offered, but had not drank. Even now, it hung by its neck, held loosely in her fingers as the pad of a thumb ran back and forth around the perimeter of the seal. It continued that absent-minded path as the fair-haired boy broke the silence to share his wisdom. Evelynn couldn't recall a time that she'd heard him say so many words at once, though she supposed it wasn't as though she knew all that much about him. His was a face she'd seen often and chronicled as religiously as the rest, but only one hand was needed to count interactions of any significance. She listened with active intent, absorbing his perspective as he spoke it, chewing on his words.

There really wasn't much to argue with. Despite his suggestion that his experience was the inverse, that the idea had been the dream, and this the reality, was that really much different than how she was feeling? The memory of racing through the forest, of rending through bark and scattering crystalline droplets of fresh trickling water, it was fading, a hazy mist infringing upon its borders and encroaching ever inward. Translucency layered itself upon its surface, obscuring the detail of its happenstance. It fell like particles of sand through fingers of open wonderment, promising to retreat into the libraries of a thousand dreams before it. Well and truly, it felt as though she had only just awoken, the recent hours only a figment of her imagination.

"You almost sound like my mother," she murmured, head resting back against the bark when he had concluded his thoughts, "the way you speak of continued self-discovery." If there was more to that, she didn't elaborate, letting the bottle of water settle to nestle quietly in her lap. "I was hoping for wings. Like a nightingale." Melancholy slipped its way back into her words, enlightening some of the source of the hollow disappointment that continued to grip at her. Lips lifted in a brief smile before its weight dragged their corners back down. "To be able to touch the sky without reliance on a broom."

Slender immaterial digits were closing in around her throat as she confessed, straining her ability to keep a neutral expression and cutting off her speech. She swallowed, trying to force the lump down, to barrel through and deny the rising tempest. This time, it was her turn to make use of the bottled water, raising its edge to her mouth to hide the faint tremble in her lips. Unhurried, she nursed its contents, allowing life-giving liquid to cool the emotion and wash the bitter envy back to the depths of her bowels where it belonged. "This just seems a bit... on the nose, in a way," she continued quietly after clearing her throat, lips pressing together to massage away any residual water from the pull she'd taken. "Gryffindor House and a wampus core... I suppose I ought not to be surprised my form is that of a mountain lion. Better that than a goldfish... or a slug.

"Could you imagine?" Her grimace this time was heavy with disgust. "Going through all that effort only find out your true form is a mucoid invertebrate..." She paused again, the nail of her thumb returning to trace the length of the bottle's neck, up and down and up again. Brows furrowed. "But why..." She murmured. "Why Gryffindor, or wampus hair or a puma... I am not inexorably linked to the forests, nor did my mother raise large cats. I do not seek to race through foliage or hunt rabbits." Her lips pursed, recalling suddenly the flash memory of chasing a cottontail into its burrow. "I am not even very familiar with them cougars. They are solitary creatures who roam large territories. Females are fiercely protective of their cubs. Deer and elk are their favoured prey. And they are exceptionally agile and swift. Argument could be made for my hermetic predilection, I suppose, but none of the rest is particularly noteworthy."

She released a light sigh. "I would hardly be able to go unnoticed either... A cougar in the UK... A single report will have the masses searching. Nevermind the sky..." Her voice ebbed, words tapering to barely more than a whisper as reality set in. Any hope she had for a reliable form of transport, any thoughts she'd held of being able to spy with ease, any dreams she'd had of racing unhinged through fields and foliage...Perhaps it had felt like a dream because that's all it could be. She would never be able to risk being seen. Not if she wanted to avoid attracting unwanted attention. "Even the forests beyond Hogwarts' grounds will be beyond my reach..."

@Evelynn Decipio

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	Bafflement passed over Pericles when compared to her mother, though it was just as quickly put at ease when she clarified that they shared a similar ideology. He could only offer a small shrug and demure smile, the latter fading as Eve admitted what she had hoped for. Wings, like a nightingale. Her regret, though quietly conveyed, rippled out across the small space between them. A lack of wand knowledge meant he overlooked, in that moment, what a wampus core's characteristic was. That fact would serve as one more piece to a puzzle Peri didn't yet realize he was putting together. His attention was entirely on the interaction, on Eve and the sense of remorse radiating from her, lulling him into a state of silent attentiveness. He tried to balm and bridge the gap with a rare hint of wry humor, musing: "On-the-nose? You're telling a Ravenclaw who becomes an eagle." In an effort to validate all transformations, hers included, the League director went on to add, "And who's to say? Being a slug might be more... peaceful? You would have plenty of time to mediate on matters." Doubt could be pinned in the faint furrow of his forehead, but it didn't reach his eyes; Pericles wouldn't have been happy as a slug at all, though surely there was someone out there who may have made it work. The halfhearted go at lightening the mood was abandoned in favor of reasoning, as that was where the Ravenclaw pulled comfort from. His words came soft yet steady. "I believe choosing to become an animagus requires the bravery to commit to one's truth. It's funny how humans divide themselves. 'Humans and animals'. One species juxtaposed against eight-point-seven million.... Our animagus form is a reflection of who we really are, a pinpoint in a sea of identities. When we perform the ritual, we reveal our true selves to the world, and to ourselves." He spoke with the certainty of sensibility, though there was the odd gleam of suspended disbelief in his eye, the shine of those who dabbled in the arcane. "I wager that's why some mages find our ability taboo. They aren't comfortable seeing others embrace themselves, less so when they aren't satisfied with their own identities. Did you hear what happened at the Twenty-Sixteen International Symposium of Animagi? A gerbil was outraged by the mightier transformations of Uagadou students. He compared himself to them, nearly kicking off a riot, rather than welcome his form for what it represented in himself." A trace of disdain curled his upper lip as the eagle observed, "The behavior of a small man indeed." A slow swig was indulged as Pericles paused, reorienting his thoughts, hoping the relevancy of his ramblings shone through. He didn't speak at length like this often; he found his thoughts, at times, became jumbled when he tried putting them to words. An effort to tie them together with a tidy conclusion resulted in the line: "We can't pick what we become, though we can still choose what we do with it. The lioness may not have been what you expected, and she may not have been your choice, but she is your truth." The only trouble was, Evelynn's practicality was a hungry thing, unsatisfied by platitudes. She was already grieving the lost possibility of flight, not to mention the lack of subtlety her new form entailed. It pained Pericles to see someone so capable wracked with so much self-doubt. He switched to gentle reassurance, insisting "You'll find your future transformations much less distracting. It won't hurt again, your capacity for control will be greater...." His voice faded as his gaze trailed towards the forest. Gazing into the gaps of wilderness, inspiration struck, and he turned to Eve with a spark of motivation. "...and you don't have to go it alone. I enjoyed tonight. I'd gladly be your eyes again. I could scout ahead, keep you hidden. We'll practice as a pair until you have a sense for her." Which was to say, in a roundabout way, until she discovered what the puma meant to her. Peri tried to meet her eye as he solemnly murmured, "Don't resent your lack of wings. I think she's extraordinary. You're extraordinary."
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⋖ 26/Mar/2024 @ before sunrise | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Pericles Dralt | MENTIONING n/a
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Water swirled up the walls of the bottle as it rocked about in her fingers. As much as she had wanted to protest the boy's attempt to validate even a slug transformation, Evelynn kept quiet on that front. She could see what he was attempting to do in keeping the field leveled for everyone, but she just couldn't agree. Sometimes life just wasn't fair. Sometimes hard work was repaid with impossible and imbalanced situations. As far as she knew, slugs didn't even have ears, and although they could probably detect vibrations or some such, she doubted it was sensitive enough to make out a conversation, for example. Their use would have been for going unseen and getting into spaces other creatures couldn't. But a spider could just as easily do that, and far more swiftly. It would make for terrible spying, and at Hogwarts, it was just as likely to get killed on sight just as a precautionary measure for concerns regarding Hag slugs. The only thing worse than a slug might be a barnacle or something else as equally stationary and void of sensory organs.

She took another pull at the water, letting cool rivulets dampen her thoughts, eyes fixed forward towards the castle in the distance as the light on the horizon crept closer to its crown. Pericles' words continued to watch over her, painting images of a vast sea of species of all variety, rays of light reaching down to illuminate select few amidst their numbers chosen to represent one wix or another. We reveal our true selves to the world, and to ourselves. How simple a notion, yet so disconcerting a thought. That it could possibly be the case that aspects of herself were unknown to her did not sit well at all. It harkened back to memories of those who acted not of their own volition, but by the will of another entity, parasitic or otherwise.

Yet, that spectral unease intermingled a faint curiosity. A mirror showed one's true reflection, in theory. It reflected exactly what it saw, as it saw it, without embellishment or veil. Yet what one saw in the mirror was not how one was seen by the rest of the world. Reverse the image and it suddenly looked entirely unnatural despite its state of otherwise being unchanged. Perhaps the same could be said of the animagus. The ritual pulled qualities and foundational truths of its participant without bias. At her heart, she knew what Dralt said was true. In a way, the form adopted as an animagus was an even purer reflection than any polished mirror, for it made visible the invisible. All she had to do was look herself in the eye and acknowledge herself for what she had become—what she had always been. Which, while intellectually sounded all well and good and made sense on some elevated level of thinking, the reality was not quite so cut and dry.

As though he had a private viewing window into the machinations of her mind, the Ravenclaw put to words the conclusion she was arriving at. The lioness may not have been what you expected, and she may not have been your choice, but she is your truth. "I suppose the perspective with which I entered into this whole process was a bit skewed," she begrudgingly acknowledged, leaning her head back against the bark and closed her eyes. Heavy faced and dulling of mind, it was beginning to feel as though a blanket were falling over her face, beckoning her to give in to gravity's influence. One hand fell from the bottle, drifting until making contact with the grass. Her palm hovered at the tips of the blades, denying them blood, shifting slowly back and forth to tease the dew resting thereupon. Words of reassurance continued to float towards her, and while she heard them, there was the odd occasion where brows pinched and she had to replay within her mind what had been spoken that she might understand. But she got the gist of it: platitudes that every transformation would be easier than the last. She bobbed her head, and continued to do so for some time after those reassurances had shifted to a suggestion of something more.

When she had, albeit slightly delayed, finally willed her eyes open once again, she found Dralt looking at her. Lips parted with every intention to inquire what, thinking perhaps she had missed something as she danced ever nearer to the edge of oblivion. He would beat her to it, murmuring words she was not at all prepared to hear and delivering with them a jolt of temporary wakefulness as a result. Evelynn blinked reflexively, her gaze diverting in that fraction of a moment that her lids had shut to peer at somewhere off to the other side, at nothing and nowhere in particular. "There was nothing exceptional about the ritual..." she mumbled, tiny hairs across arms and neck standing on end. Contrary to the chill that they suggested, however, she felt suddenly flushed.

"I appreciate your support..." Her words were stiff, hesitant. Her own opinion couldn't be farther from what he had expressed, but she wasn't about to directly counter it lest she draw attention to them. "...and the offer to scout." To do so would only invite counter-objection and, knowing what she did of him, further supporting argument. Even the thought of that instilled a sense of unease, heart quickening and rising to her throat. A restlessness overcame her, the bottle set aside in favour of fussing with her skirt. "I think it is past time we turn in.." she suggested, continuing to deflect, prompted to bring the whole ordeal to a final close. "..our peers might start asking questions if we are found absent from the dorm before curfew has been lifted." She rose to her feet with as much grace as her settling fatigue and voluminous gown would allow, gaze still cast in no direction in particular as fingertips pulled absently at those of the other hand. "Thank you, though..." she managed quietly, chewing on the inside of a lip. "...for being present."

@Evelynn Decipio

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	In spite of the pinched expressions which came and went on Eve's freckled face, Peri' softly spoken platitudes continued, undaunted by her walls. She winced as though his attempts at untangling her mind were less than comfortable. He tried to coax out those stubborn knots of thought all the same, delicate yet determined. It was messy work, and it wouldn't be done in one sitting, yet the eagle was patient. Even when she tried to rebuff his praise, he replied plainly- with a small shrug for cheek- "I disagree." There was nothing insignificant about being pinned a lioness by the universe. But Pericles hadn't come to clash, nor would he risk pushing her to the point of withdrawal. They could celebrate the accomplishment another day. Perhaps Eve could tolerate it if gone about in a less obvious way: rather than commending her outright, if she afforded him the opportunity for another run, that in itself would serve as celebration. The heir's optimism might have strained credulity at times, though in this instance, it was no front. He had been in awe of Eve's accomplishment, and with time, he willed her to share the sentiment. She spoke of curfews and curious dormmates. Taking the hint, Peri pressed himself to stand, offering to haul the Gryffindor girl to her boots with an outstretched arm. His sleepy gaze grew tender when she thanked him for his company. "I'm glad at the chance to have been here," Peri murmured, adding earnestly "It meant a great deal, being trusted to witness this." With a gesture, he initiated their return to the castle, content to stew on his memories of the night with little more dialogue than a parting kindness. It would be this particular moment that he would remember, months down the line, when Evelynn said something that struck him deeply: "We are a social species. We cannot survive without each other, and yet in times of strife and fear, we have an inevitable tendency to withdraw and sever those social connections when they are most needed." Pericles didn't yet know what had driven Eve into isolation, but he did know she had opened a door to him, if only a little. He wouldn't allow it to close her in again so easily.
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Fin.