March 14th, 1890 — Podmore Zoological Gardens

That bright Saturday afternoon, Baron Crossridge visited Podmore Zoological Gardens for the first time, under the supposition that they might sell some falconry equipment, as his was beginning to wear. His supposition, it quickly transpired, was incorrect, and thus he found himself in the middle of a very busy zoo with an intense desire to extract himself from the crowds.

The best he could do was wander the long way around the zebra enclosure, but as he did so he realised this did not lead to an exit. He gazed dully back the way he came, where masses of loudly curious patrons and squealing children went merrily about their weekend. Djura couldn't bring himself to carve a path through the crowds... and so he remained here for now, leaning on the edge of the zebra enclosure, admiring the zig-zagged beasts and feeling just as trapped as they were.

  

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Una specialized in magical animals but when it came down to it, muggle creatures were very much the same in multiple aspects. Each animal seemed to have its counterpart on the opposite end of the magical spectrum. So when the other animal doctors, Una could never really remember what the word was, weren't able to see to an animal she was called in. That was what had lead her to the zebra enclosure. And though they were different with their stripes, she decided she preferred the pure white of the unicorns.

As she finished up, she took note of a gentleman standing on his own and looking out at the equine creatures. Being the sociable woman that she was, she didn't hesitate to step up alongside him at the enclosure. "First time seeing them?" she asked, being the only obvious answer to be staring at such beasts the way he was.

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Magnificent MJ Masterpiece

In a flurry of quiet but vibrant colour, a red-haired young woman came to join him by the zebra enclosure. Rather improper though it was to observe a strange woman alone, Djura could not help but notice that she smelled of wild things. Perhaps she worked here. Perhaps she did not like visitors straying so far from the large herd of paying gawkers.

Loathe though he was to have his solitary moment interrupted, one person was not a crowd, and so he could handle this changed situation, giving a curt but polite nod of greeting. "No, miss. But it is my first time wondering if it is fair to confine these creatures so."

  

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A man of few words and even less smiles. Una shrugged it off mentally. Some just weren't the most personable. She'd traveled enough in her life to know that some people were just that way. It hardly phased her but s he knew better than to push too far. She'd watch him silently to see how his demeanor shifted. If he started to get anymore closed off, she'd simply see herself out.

His questioning of the zebras' confinement had her shrugging again but still continuing to smile. "On the contrary actually," she said as her bright blue gaze moved to the creatures in the enclosure, "This herd happened to be saved from an area where poachers were running rampant." It was the case for many of the creatures found within Podmore Zoological Gardens, a fact she intended to tell him.

"The majority of the animals that you see here were saved from one thing or another," she explained, gaze shifting back to him, "Most have better lives here than they could have had in the wilds."

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Magnificent MJ Masterpiece

What a strange, rather extraordinary young woman. She looked at him unwaveringly, unafraid and undaunted, every inch the stereotype of flame-haired. After all, in this class-conscious world of theirs it was the very height of brave to regard a man like Baron Crossridge and talk as if they were fast friends already. Djura found this interesting, and — he supposed — refreshing. Of course he'd rather be alone (wouldn't they all?), but her strange company was certainly preferable to those seething masses.

"That's good", Djura replied, not hesitating to admit that he had been wrong and she had taught him something new. More often than not, the best days came with a good lesson. "Although one can't help but wonder why something can't be done about the poachers." If aforementioned men could not have their striped curiosities, surely they would just find new creatures to terrorise, and thus there would be more victims to "rescue" by tearing them from their natural habitat.

  

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Oh how Una wished it were that simple. Poachers got caught every day but they rarely remained detained. And, regardless of those pulled out of the wilds, there were always more to step into place and fill the void. It was a nasty and vicious cycle, one that she doubted would ever be fixed. It was a shame, really, but there was nothing that could be done about it. Beyond what they already did, anyways. She still remembered very keenly how Oscar had been orphaned as just a young baby all thanks to poachers.

"Sometimes they are caught," she answered, bright gaze turned and focused on the zebras slowly grazing about their paddock, "But the punishment isn't always the best. Poaching is a far less offense to some than other things." Which was an absolute shame. She felt they should be held to a far higher standard but she had always loved all varieties of creatures. "And even when some are taken out of the wilds, there's usually others ready to fill the spot," she added, glancing back to him again with a softened, almost sad expression.

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Magnificent MJ Masterpiece

Such was their difference in state and situation, Djura might have politely left the conversation there and then — primarily because he did not wish to upset a stranger's reputation by lingering in her presence. But perhaps she was older than she looked, a married lady or spinster — and a working one, no less. He reassured himself thus, for their conversation was turning out to be both interesting and heartfelt; the touch of despondency in her royal blue eyes was hard to miss.

"Understandable", the Baron agreed curtly. But he mused on the concept of punishment, and what horrors and trauma such a concept had meant during war time. Perhaps caging a poacher to give them a taste of their own medicine was the best path to rehabilitation... or perhaps not. "If only poachers would consent to education. One can't help but feel... if those that would do these creatures harm were savvy to their importance, they would not harm a hair on their head."

But as much as he was gleaning something from this conversation, he could not help but notice that the unlikely pair were drawing a few judgemental glances. Hm. He supposed it was about time he tried to find a way out. "Speaking of which... I'd best rejoin my own herd." Djura offered a polite nod — "Madam" — before making his way back along the edge of the enclosure to reluctantly rejoin the crowd only to finally escape them.

  

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