“Thank you.” Nimiane’s voice was as soft as the whisper of spring wind upon the face. She reached out toward the kitten allowing it to smell her fingers.

It was often in this world that something was mentioned that Nimiane did not quite know. She had not, afterall, been taught at a school as most had. It was the practical aspects of a magical education that she lacked. Creatures, objects, these she had some semblance of knowledge. “It is a small bird, similar to a snitch.” She explained, happy to be able to help. So often her work called for observing not participating.

The kitten leaned toward her and sniffed her fingers, its small pink tongue reaching out to brush over her fingers. Nimiane took this as an opportunity to reach forward and scratch behind its ears with her other hand.