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Catherine Smith for Percival Adlard Jr..
The peppiest of widows~
This would have been very disturbing anyway but then Pet's eye popped out and started rolling along the bottom of the boat. Great. Maybe she would be so fortunate as to have a kraken surface nearby and pluck her off the ship with one of its tentacles and kindly drown her. Petra Sleptova in Land, Ho!
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Complete a thread started and set every month for twelve consecutive months. Each thread must have at least ten posts, and at least three must be your own.

Winter Is Coming
25th November, 1889 — Outskirts of the Forbidden Forest
She had saved what money she could over the years, but there were certain obstacles in her path that made it difficult to save anything at all. One: that she was a maid, and a maid at a shoddy inn like the Hog’s Head to boot, where no one was a bastion of generosity - and indeed might not bother to ever pay her if she didn’t stand up for herself. Two: that she had not been raised with the skills for a professional life, even if she had once been willing to go against the grain and learn those skills. Three: that she had been turned before she’d done so, and therefore lost hope of the career in healing she’d not yet gained. Four: that the world was not kind to werewolves, and even those who put up with her - say, her present landlord - only did so at a hefty price.

So what she could get at any place other than the apothecary, she would get herself. With winter on its way, the ground would be frozen solid soon enough, and what she could get now would have to be dried and last until spring. Herbs, plants, any potions ingredients that were native to Scotland: they grew wild and heartily at the edge of the forest.

Leila wasn’t afraid of the forest, though ‘Forbidden’ had always been in its name. She was well-acquainted with forests - had even transformed in them for a time in Germany, was well aware the wolf felt more at home in them than she ever would - and, if she were honest, was more worried about running into other people than she was about any kind of beasts or vampires.

She hadn’t run into anyone yet, and she been gathering up valerian sprigs and mistletoe berries into a leather bag for some time before she lost her footing on a ridge and tumbled down the side of a slope, her whole body hurtling into a vast fallen log. It would have been bearable, she supposed, if there had not been a broken-off branch on it pointing her way, that had pierced through her clothes and skin and was now embedded deep into her leg, leaving her skewered to the log. “Fuck,” Leila swore to herself, looking at it blankly for a moment, until the pain caught up and all she could do was moan.

She always liked the woods. She didn't go in them when she was younger, but she'd started to venture into them the year she'd been cast out of Hogwarts. She was inhuman enough that most of the more mundane creatures of the woods left her alone, and she rarely went deep enough to encounter the truly dangerous ones. She'd found no one questioned her existence or who she was her. No one casted judgement and no one asked questions.

It was a welcome reprieve from the bustle of the wizarding world where prejudices ran rapid. A half goblin was the least weird thing one would encounter. And she didn't need worry about vampires wanting her blood or being turned into a werewolf. Her goblin blood prevented both. Her blood smelt bad to vampires and you just didn't see goblin werewolves. She supposed the could still be mauled, but she didn't go in the middle of the night or near the full moon.

Normally it was actually quite peaceful in the woods, though there were always the occasional creepy background noises. Normally she didn't hear a humanoid voice muttering profanities nearby.

Her steps became loud as she skittered over the ground, feet crushing leaves and branches alike underfoot in her desperation to reach whoever had befallen some nasty fate.

"Are you okay, Miss?" she questioned, lilac eyes easily seeing in the dark. Still, even though she looked human, she didn't want to get to close until she was sure the other girl meant her no harm.

[Image: mN7VFq.png]
wonderful set made by tiff!
iziza is a half-goblin, meaning she is quite short. your character might not know why but they will notice her height and white hair that marks her as such.
She was resigned to getting herself out of this scrape. There wasn’t likely to be anyone around to save her, unless a vampire was lured out of the caverns by the scent of blood. (She didn’t know how far the scent travelled; she was sure she would be able to sniff out something right across the forest during a full moon.)

And there was blood darkening the brown fabric of her skirt where the log was speared through the thin layers into her skin. She watched it spread for a suspended moment, her teeth gnawing down on her bottom lip as she considered how best to extricate herself without doing any more damage. Where was her wand?

It hurt to move even the barest inch, digging the sharp branch in a little deeper into her leg, but Leila shifted around until she had felt her wand in her skirt pocket. Too concentrated on her own movements to register any swell of background rustling, Leila was in the process of pulling her wand out when someone burst into the clearing before her, and she brandished it at them instinctively, letting out a hiss of pain that the movement caused her.

It was only a girl, though. Odd looking, washed out and albino, but almost glowing in the gloom. Like a snow angel. Her skin was pale enough to be a vampire, but she didn’t have the presence of one - no, she was so slight in stature she came across almost as a timid child. Leila didn’t know what she was doing out here, and nor did she know if this girl was the help she would have personally envisioned if she had wished for someone to stumble across her.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers, now, could they? Leila lowered her wand a fraction. Was she okay? Her face was drained of all colour, she was skewered to a log, she was bleeding at the leg- what kind of question was that, anyway? “Oh, just great,” she snapped with no small degree of sarcasm... which did flood out the feeling of panicked frustration for a moment, at least. She glared across at the stranger, feeling more like a wounded animal in a trap than anything. “I’m doing wonderfully. Never been better.”

Knee jerk reaction had her own wand up fractions of a second later, disarming spell on the edge of her tongue. She lowered, though, moments later when the woman lowered her own, but she kept a tight grip on the fir handle. It was funny, she'd been working on her wandless magic since fifth year, but in situations where she felt in danger, she resorted to pulling her wand out like an idiot. Wandles would have been far quicker.

Iziza nearly bit her lip at the women's sarcasm, but changed her mind, fuiled by the anonymity of the dark woods. "Pardon me for not wanting to jump right in. It isn't like we are in the forbidden forest with who knows what lurking." If the Forbidden forest had an actual name, she did not know it. The name from school had stuck, if had a name it was likely lost centuries ago.

Deciding that the women's retort to sarcasm rather than springing up and tearing her to sheds meant she was likely safe, the half-goblin moved closer and knelt down on the leafy bed. It didn't look pleasant, what had happened to her, and Izzy felt her stomach curl with the urge to displace her last meal.

"I'm not a healer, but I can either patch you up enough to try and find transportation to the hospital. That's a bit more intense than they teach at Hogwarts so I wouldn't make promise for a lack of scaring. Or, if you are fine with it, I can find something to put pressure on the bleeding and apparate to the hospital."

[Image: mN7VFq.png]
wonderful set made by tiff!
iziza is a half-goblin, meaning she is quite short. your character might not know why but they will notice her height and white hair that marks her as such.
Leila could only snort half-heartedly at the girl’s protest that who knew what could be lurking out here. If she had been in a better situation (read: not pinned to a fallen tree trunk), Leila might have pointed out, rather more cheerfully than she usually did, that she was a werewolf.

But, unfortunately, there were bigger problems for the time being that what Leila was. (Or what the diminutive girl was, for that matter.) At any rate, the stranger knelt down close by, evidently trying to be of some help. It was a nice thought, but Leila did not have it in her to be enthused by either of the proposals.

(After all, she had once been a few weeks into healer training at St. Mungo’s, so if either of them was better placed to fix her up, it wasn’t the girl.)

“Oh? You think I’m worried about scarring, do you?” Leila snarled, choosing to attack the girl’s words first if only as a means to vent her frustration, distract herself from the discomfort that was not abating the longer the tree branch stuck out of her leg. She lit the tip of her wand just to gesture sardonically at her face, then dropped the light onto the log beside her, illuminating the area of the situation with a hazy glow. “Not the hospital, though,” Leila added firmly, primarily because she did not have the finances for it. With an unexpected pang, she thought of Healer Belby - Mr. Westerman, she meant, with his unofficial Hogsmeade practice. He would be able to help.

But he was not here, and all she had for help was this do-gooder, whom she knew nothing about so certainly did not trust to save her leg from amputation. “No,” Leila repeated, gritting her teeth as she thought about what had to be done. “But you can help. I need something to tie here -” she gestured at her leg, above where the bleeding was, and then added grimly, “and then I’ll need you to help - saw this off.” She made a motion with her hand, severing the tip of the jagged branch from where it was connected to the fallen log. Even with magic - a severing charm - it was not going to be especially pleasant. But at least she’d be extricated.

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