She should have seen this storm brewing; weather had been something of a recurring factor in her visions, but this particular storm appeared so quickly and so suddenly it worried her. One moment it had been sunny and then what seemed like the very next, the entire world was white and then blanketed with snow. The employees were ushering in as many people as they could to shelter from the storm, but soon enough, even with the greenhouses’ magical abilities, the reinforced doors seemed to be groaning from their hinges at being forced open and closed so many times.
On top of that, the floating orbs of light around the greenhouse seemed to be diminishing. At this point, Phie wanted to make sure the animals were alright. The problem was that on a normal day there was no telling how many butterflies and hummingbirds flitted about. On a day like this when chaos reigned, Philomena knew it would be impossible. The quails were nestled deep into their little grass pen, however she was drawn closer by their urgent-sounding twittering. Squinting through the grass, wand alight, she counted them as best she could but even with a double count, she still came up 2 quails short. Hoping it was just a matter of finding them close by turned out to be wishful thinking, and a quick survey of the grass told her she’d have to go beyond their home.
“Tchaikovsky!”
She tried calling him multiple times, however it turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. Either he wasn’t near, or he was hiding - which meant he wasn’t chasing any of the quails. The witch moved down the pathway a little further and then heard unmistakable squeak of a quail with a fox in hot pursuit. “Tchaikovsky!” Philomena cried, following the resulting barks. “Leave that poor bird alone!” She darted after the two of them, so intent on ending this charade early so she could go home that she nearly missed the figure that came quickly into view. When she did, she tried to skid to a halt. “Mr. Dempsey!”
On top of that, the floating orbs of light around the greenhouse seemed to be diminishing. At this point, Phie wanted to make sure the animals were alright. The problem was that on a normal day there was no telling how many butterflies and hummingbirds flitted about. On a day like this when chaos reigned, Philomena knew it would be impossible. The quails were nestled deep into their little grass pen, however she was drawn closer by their urgent-sounding twittering. Squinting through the grass, wand alight, she counted them as best she could but even with a double count, she still came up 2 quails short. Hoping it was just a matter of finding them close by turned out to be wishful thinking, and a quick survey of the grass told her she’d have to go beyond their home.
“Tchaikovsky!”
She tried calling him multiple times, however it turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. Either he wasn’t near, or he was hiding - which meant he wasn’t chasing any of the quails. The witch moved down the pathway a little further and then heard unmistakable squeak of a quail with a fox in hot pursuit. “Tchaikovsky!” Philomena cried, following the resulting barks. “Leave that poor bird alone!” She darted after the two of them, so intent on ending this charade early so she could go home that she nearly missed the figure that came quickly into view. When she did, she tried to skid to a halt. “Mr. Dempsey!”
![[Image: HqS2LdO.png]](https://i.imgur.com/HqS2LdO.png)