It was a shame she couldn’t grin properly as a wren. She thought she might have, otherwise.
“I don’t suppose you know any?” She interjected, at his suggestion, wondering if he would be some help in chasing leads after all, even if he had no miraculous solution of his own.
In hope of that, perhaps, Porphyria let the question rest and instead tilted her head to acquiesce to telling him all the detail she could recall. “It was a comb that did it. I didn’t know it was Pictish at first -” she clicked her teeth in annoyance; although she’d heard about the dig and the theft of some of the cursed objects, she hadn’t expected to find them in an odd old comb, one that was interesting to look at, but largely underwhelming - or so she had supposed. “But it was about the size of a palm, made out of ivory or bone, I think, with some kind of swirling pattern at the top, and the thinnest teeth. Nothing happened until I ran it through my hair,” (out of curiosity, mostly, not because she had actually thought of using it; if anything, it had given her folkloric visions of banshees in Ireland, that sort of thing, “and the next thing I knew I was all feathers,” she added wryly. “Apparently it’s not the usual straightforward sort of transfiguration, this curse. It’s lucky I still have my own mind, I suppose. But the healers tried for a week and didn’t get any closer to knowing how to undo it.”
“I don’t suppose you know any?” She interjected, at his suggestion, wondering if he would be some help in chasing leads after all, even if he had no miraculous solution of his own.
In hope of that, perhaps, Porphyria let the question rest and instead tilted her head to acquiesce to telling him all the detail she could recall. “It was a comb that did it. I didn’t know it was Pictish at first -” she clicked her teeth in annoyance; although she’d heard about the dig and the theft of some of the cursed objects, she hadn’t expected to find them in an odd old comb, one that was interesting to look at, but largely underwhelming - or so she had supposed. “But it was about the size of a palm, made out of ivory or bone, I think, with some kind of swirling pattern at the top, and the thinnest teeth. Nothing happened until I ran it through my hair,” (out of curiosity, mostly, not because she had actually thought of using it; if anything, it had given her folkloric visions of banshees in Ireland, that sort of thing, “and the next thing I knew I was all feathers,” she added wryly. “Apparently it’s not the usual straightforward sort of transfiguration, this curse. It’s lucky I still have my own mind, I suppose. But the healers tried for a week and didn’t get any closer to knowing how to undo it.”
a sublime set by Lady! <3