Arrival

The wind picked up against Neihem's back as he made his way across the courtyard toward the main building at Caislin Hallows. The Solstice is nigh, he thought as he allowed the wind to rustle his robes. He could feel the powers beginning to converge. The same wind nearly blew the door out of his hand as he opened it and entered the main hall.

Ignoring the glances and hushed whispers of the students in the halls (he was probably the first satyr to set foot inside these walls, or inside any human building, for that matter), he followed the signs directing him to the main office of the school. A sudden pain seared his leg and he nearly fell. Perfect time for that old injury to flare up. Luckily, he had his ever-present staff and was able to catch himself. Maintaining as much dignity as he could, he made his way slowly down the hall, keeping a slow, stately gait as he went. How strange the man-made floors felt under his hooves; he would have to ensure his quarters and "classroom" were outdoors, preferably with plenty of trees and thick foliage.

After what seemed like an eternal walk with many turns (human buildings with their confining halls and rooms still unnerved him a bit), he reached the door he sought. He tapped lightly on the door and awaited the summons to enter...

It was a rare thing to find her sitting in the office, and so it would make perfect sense that she would not be in her office at the time of his arrival. She had stepped out to have morning tea with a very dear friend of hers who had just returned to the school grounds after a short leave. In her right hand was a small white tea cup, that continued to steam in the hallway as moved down it. A soft blue elegant dress highlighted her frame, as she stopped just a little short of the door.

Surveying the area making sure that there was no one else there she would continue forward, she could see the individual knocking upon her door. A soft and yet welcoming smile spread itself across her lips, she moved with balance. Humming the song softly in the back of her head “You must walk feminine talk.. feminine, smile and become famine…” Margo would be proud that she had remembered after all these years.

Clearing her throat a little ways off from the individual standing at her door she would began to speak softly,

“Hello, May I help you?”

She would lift the tea cup up to her lips and sip from it, while she awaited his response.